The Tycoon's Instant Family

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘Georgie?’

  She straightened up, lifted her chin and glared at him.

  ‘When were you going to tell me?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  NICK stared at her in confusion.

  ‘When was I going to tell you what?’

  ‘That you’re adopting the children.’

  His brow pleated, then he closed his eyes and sat down on the edge of his desk with a sigh. ‘It was only an idea—’

  ‘The way my father told it, it sounded like more than just an idea—it sounded like a fait accompli.’

  He sighed harshly and rammed his hands through his hair. ‘Nonsense. But my mother can’t cope, and what other choice is there? I’m giving up my business, for heaven’s sake! Throwing away everything I’ve worked for and moving up here because I have to, Georgie. I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t need a couple of little tearaways and a screaming baby chucked into the middle of my life, but I’m dealing with it, because the kids need a responsible, capable adult, and that means me. For God’s sake, be reasonable—’

  ‘What? You’ve suddenly introduced three other people into the equation and you’re telling me to be reasonable? Didn’t it occur to you to discuss it with me?’

  ‘I was going to—’

  ‘When? After we were married? And that’s convenient, isn’t it? You’ve just met me, you know I’m single, we’re getting on OK and suddenly, bang, you inherit a few kids and they need a mother. Oh, how handy, here’s Georgie, but we’d better not tell her, we’ll just lure her with a few lies and a pretty bauble—’

  She wrenched the ring off and hurled it at him, then her hand went up to her neck and she yanked at the necklace, but the chain was too strong and she couldn’t break it, and it hurt her neck, and she felt the hot, bitter tears scald her eyes.

  ‘You’re a bastard, do you know that? Just like Martin. You didn’t want me at all, you just wanted a free resident nanny for the children, and there I was, like a sitting duck. What was it you said to Tory? Don’t listen to Simon, it’s all lies. Were you speaking personally, Nick? Judging him by your own standards? And such pretty lies. All that rubbish about loving me, about me being like the diamond—’

  She yanked again, and the chain flew apart in her hands, the diamond pinging against the window and falling unheeded to the carpet.

  Wordlessly he stared at her, then bent and picked up the ring and slipped it into his shirt pocket, his face expressionless.

  ‘If that’s what you really think of me, then there’s nothing more to say, is there?’ he said tightly. ‘I thought you loved me. I thought you loved the kids, but I was wrong, you don’t want to be bothered with them at all. You’ve done everything you can to keep your distance, to avoid them. Like all the others, you were just after what you could get from me. Only the other day you were asking what I was worth—’

  ‘I didn’t! I asked if you needed to work, if you could afford the luxury of giving up your company and moving up here. I don’t want your damned money! It hasn’t exactly made you happy, has it?’

  ‘Apparently not,’ he said. ‘But one thing I’m sure of—you aren’t getting it. I’ll save it for the people who deserve it. Now, if you’ve got nothing else to say, perhaps you’d better leave.’

  She opened her mouth, thought better of it and turned on her heel. As she did so she heard a door slam far below her, and, looking up, she saw Harry running down the drive, with Dickon struggling to keep up. As she watched they ran out of the gate and down the road towards the beach.

  ‘Where are they going?’ she asked in horror, and Nick stared out, swore softly and pushed her aside, throwing himself down the stairs after them.

  They must have heard, she thought in horror. Must have heard Nick say she didn’t love them. With a choking sob she fled after him, ran out of the door at the bottom of the tower and sprinted down over the lawn. Nick had followed the children out of the gate, but the wall was quicker, and she swung her legs over and slithered down it, dropping the last few feet and racing across the road.

  ‘They must be going round the point,’ she yelled to him, heading off across the sand, and then he was beside her, calling the children, scrambling after them over the rocks. She followed him, her feet slipping in her haste, and as she straightened up a wave caught her foot and she stared down in dismay.

  The tide was coming in, and if they went much further they’d be cut off.

  ‘Nick, the tide!’ she yelled, and he nodded grimly.

  ‘I know. How long have we got?’

  ‘Five minutes?’

  He swore and set off again, just a few feet in front of her. They were gaining on the boys, and if only they’d stop it would be all right, but Dickon had his hands over his ears and Harry turned and yelled, ‘Go away! You don’t want us! Leave us alone!’

  She bit back a sob and pulled off her shoes. She was faster without them, her foothold more certain, and she overtook Nick and caught up with them just as the tide reached them.

  ‘Come on, boys,’ she said desperately, holding out her hands. ‘Please come back. We do want you. We both want you. We love you to bits.’

  ‘So why were you shouting all those things?’ Harry asked accusingly. ‘You said Nick didn’t love you, and he said why would he want two tearaways and a screaming baby—’

  ‘We both said all sorts of things,’ Nick said, coming up beside her, his face tortured. ‘Stupid things. Things we need to talk about some more, but not here and not now. Boys, the tide’s coming in. We have to go back now. Really. We can talk about it inside.’

  He reached for Harry, but the boy pulled his hand away and shoved his arms behind his back defiantly. ‘You don’t love me,’ he said accusingly, then he turned on Georgie. ‘You said I could sleep in your bed if I wanted, but you aren’t even in our house and Uncle Nick’s not the same, and you promised—’

  ‘But we aren’t married yet.’

  ‘Mummy wasn’t married to Dom. They used to sleep in the same bed. People do if they love each other, he said, but you don’t, so you can’t love each other and you don’t love us, and we just want Mummy back.’

  And his lip wobbled, and Dickon started to cry, and Georgie bit her lip so hard it bled.

  ‘Oh, Harry,’ Nick said unevenly. ‘If I could give you back your mother, I would—and not because I don’t want you. I love you—I’ve always loved you, you know that. I’m sorry I said those things. It wasn’t fair. Please—come on.’ He held out his hand, and for an age Harry stood there, then slowly, great tears rolling down his face, he reached out his hand and put it in Nick’s.

  ‘Thank God,’ he said, scooping the boy up into his arms and hugging him fiercely. ‘Georgie, bring Dickon,’ he snapped, and she lifted the little boy into her arms and wiped the tears from his face.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, hugging him, and his little arms slipped round her neck and he snuggled closer. She turned to go back, and gasped as a wave broke over her foot. The rocks were piled against the foot of the old sea wall, and where they were standing was a high point. The way back was now completely cut off, and the way forward was worse.

  She tried to remember what time high tide was, and realised there was still an hour to go. And in an hour they’d be up to their waists, and with the current they’d be swept off the rocks and washed out to sea.

  She looked up at the wall, and Nick caught her eyes and shook his head.

  ‘No way. We can’t do it. We’ll have to go back the way we came.’

  ‘We can’t. It’s too deep already. Nick, I can do it. I can get up there and lift the kids to safety. If it wasn’t for the fence, I could run for a rope from the site and bring it back, but I can at least get us all up there.’

  ‘Not me. Georgie, you can’t get me up there.’

  ‘I can try—’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t do it. I’ve tried before. I’ll hand you up the kids and you can stay with them while I go back round. I’m strong enough to m
ake it if we hurry, but we haven’t got long.’

  Not long at all, she realised as the water hit the wall and soaked her to mid-thigh. Dickon sobbed and wriggled closer, and she prised his arms away from her neck and handed him to Nick.

  ‘I’ll go up as far as I can, then hand me Dickon first,’ she said. She studied the wall for a moment, moved along a little and picked her way carefully up it. It wasn’t the easiest place, because the concrete here was smoother and there were fewer hand-holds, but finally she found a spot high enough up the wall, where she could get a purchase with both feet and jam her fingers into a crack big enough to hold her weight.

  ‘Right, pass me Dickon,’ she said, reaching down with her free hand and grabbing a handful of his T-shirt as Nick held him aloft. She pulled him up to her chest, kissed him and hugged him, then, pinning him against the wall with her body, she got a better grip, hoisted him up onto her shoulder and pushed him over the edge onto the top of the wall.

  ‘OK?’

  ‘OK,’ he said tremulously.

  She threw him a smile. ‘Good boy. Now stay there, and sit very, very still, and I’ll get Harry, OK?’

  He nodded, and she reached back down to repeat the procedure. It was much harder. Nick was able to lift him higher because he had both arms free this time, but Harry was heavier than his brother, and Georgie’s fingers were starting to ache, and it was all she could do to hold his weight.

  ‘I need a better hold,’ she said, and let go, grasped his T-shirt again and hauled with the last of her strength.

  His wiry little arms closed round her, he burrowed into her side and she leant against the wall, trapping him in comparative safety while she got her breath back.

  ‘Right, Harry, climb up me,’ she said, but he wouldn’t let go, and then she heard Nick say her name and turned to see the waves creaming around his knees.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Just stay there with him like that. He’s too heavy for you to struggle with, and we can’t waste any time.’

  She felt his hand squeeze her leg, then he was gone, heading back over the rocks in the swirling water, feeling his way blindly over the submerged rocks as the surging sea tugged at him.

  ‘Please, God,’ she whispered, but she couldn’t go on. She couldn’t voice her fears, not in front of the children and maybe not even to herself. If the waves caught him…

  She looked up and smiled at Dickon reassuringly, and then looked back to Nick. His progress was painfully slow, but he had made it through the low section and was now travelling faster over another high section like the one immediately below her. Not that it seemed very high. The rocks were gone, nothing but the sea breaking right below her feet and splashing her legs.

  He started to go down again, and was almost out of sight around the corner when a wave came, bigger than all the rest. She saw him stagger, arms waving as he lost his balance, and then he disappeared from view. Her heart jammed in her throat. Where was he? Was he gone, dragged into the swirling water amongst the rocks?

  He’ll be smashed to bits, she thought, staring in horror at the spot where he’d been standing. Oh, God, she shouldn’t have let him go. She should have made him try to climb the wall, he could have done it if she’d made him, but she hadn’t, and now he’d been swept out to sea.

  ‘Where’s Uncle Nick?’ Dickon asked, his voice panicking. ‘I can’t see him any more.’

  ‘He’s gone round the corner,’ she said, trying to inject some confidence into her voice. ‘He’ll be back with help in a minute.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ Harry mumbled against her shoulder. His little body was shaking, and she tightened her hold on him and pressed a kiss to his head.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ she said cheerfully. ‘He’ll be here just any minute.’

  But it wasn’t minutes, it was ages, and still he didn’t come, and the sea was crashing over her legs and threatening to dislodge her. She lost the toe-hold of her right foot for a moment, her toes so cold she couldn’t feel the way back in, just had to keep trying until her foot seemed able to bear weight again, relieving the strain on her left hand and foot.

  ‘Hold tight,’ she said, and, letting go of Harry, she found another hold with her right hand, so she was spread-eagled on the face of the wall with him clamped firmly onto her and pressed into the concrete face.

  She rested her cheek against the rough surface and closed her eyes. Please let him be all right, she thought. Don’t let him die. Not like this, with all those awful words between us. And it was Sunday. Her father knew she’d gone to talk to Nick, and wouldn’t call her. There was nobody due on site, his mother was in hospital, and there was nobody who’d miss any of them and raise the alarm.

  If he didn’t come soon, if, God forbid, he’d been washed out to sea and drowned, then the waves would dislodge her and she and Harry would fall into the water, and poor Dickon would be stuck there, alone and terrified, and Maya was in the house by herself, probably hungry and thirsty and with no one to go to her—

  ‘Hello? Is there anybody there?’

  ‘Help!’ she yelled, and then they were there, big, strong men from the coastguards, cutting through the wire fence and lifting Dickon to safety, reaching down for Harry, then pulling her up…

  ‘Where’s Nick?’ she said, her fear for him rising up to choke her, but then she heard his voice and relief made her weak.

  ‘I’m here,’ he said, straightening up with Dickon in one arm and Harry wrapped around his legs. His other arm was hanging at a strange angle, and blood was streaming down his face from a cut on his brow, but he was alive, and so were the children.

  ‘So what kept you?’ she said, but her smile wobbled and she bit her lip, the tears falling anyway, and she took him gently in her arms and hugged him.

  He was soaked and frozen, his body was shaking like a leaf and he was covered in blood, but he was the best thing she’d seen in her entire life, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  ‘I thought—’

  ‘I know. So did I,’ he said, and bent and kissed her as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did. She knew hers did.

  ‘Come on, mate, let’s get you lot to hospital and sort you out,’ a coastguard said. One of them took Dickon, another took Harry, and for a moment she wondered if they’d pick her up, too, but Nick put his arm round her—his good arm, because the other one was obviously badly injured—and together they straggled back through the garden of the house above the point and up to the waiting ambulance.

  ‘What about Maya?’ she said, remembering the baby suddenly.

  ‘Who’s Maya?’ the ambulance driver said.

  ‘The baby. She’s in that house over there,’ Nick said, pointing.

  ‘I’ll get her,’ Georgie said, but the paramedic stopped her.

  ‘You’ve got bare, bleeding feet, your fingers are in shreds. You’re going nowhere. Just tell them how to get in and where to go.’

  So she gave them directions while they immobilised Nick’s arm and taped gauze over her fingers and toes, and the driver and one of the coastguards went to fetch the baby while they checked over the children.

  ‘We’ll have to call another ambulance,’ the paramedic said, but Georgie shook her head and the children huddled up to her.

  ‘We’re going together or not at all,’ Nick said flatly, and after a token protest the paramedic shrugged and smiled.

  ‘Just don’t tell the boss,’ she said, and then, loading everyone up, they set off for the hospital, the baby strapped to the front seat in her baby seat, Georgie sitting between the children in the back, Nick’s good hand hanging on to her bandaged fingers as if he’d never let her go, and frankly it couldn’t have been tight enough.

  ‘I love you,’ he said, and she knew she was crying but she didn’t care, because she’d thought she’d never hear him say those words again.

  ‘I love you, too—and I’m so sorry I threw the ring at you. I didn’t mean it. I was just angry that
you hadn’t talked to me, but when I thought I’d lost you—’

  ‘Shh. It doesn’t matter now. We’ll talk later,’ he said.

  He closed his eyes, his face taut with pain, but his fingers didn’t slacken their grip until they arrived at the hospital and unloaded him.

  Then he was whisked away, and she had to register them all.

  ‘So are you his wife?’ the nurse asked.

  ‘No—but I soon will be,’ she said firmly, crossing her bandaged fingers.

  ‘And are these your children or his?’

  ‘Ours,’ she said.

  ‘Our mummy’s dead,’ Dickon told her. ‘Uncle Nick and Georgie are going to look after us. I think,’ he added, and Georgie hugged him, hating herself for making him doubt their love.

  ‘Uncle Nick and Georgie are definitely going to look after you,’ she promised. ‘We’re adopting them,’ she told the nurse. ‘And their grandmother’s here in hospital at the moment. She was injured in the accident that killed their mother.’

  ‘Oh, dear. You are in the wars,’ the nurse said gently, and got a doctor who checked them over again thoroughly, while the nurse phoned her father and asked him to come in.

  ‘They’re fine, if a little shocked,’ the doctor said, and looked at her fingers and toes. ‘These just need cleaning and dressing, and then you can go,’ he told her, and the nurse wrapped them in neat little tubes.

  ‘Your father’s on his way,’ she said. ‘He sounded a bit worried, so I tried to reassure him, but I don’t think he’ll be happy till he’s seen you.’

  ‘I can imagine. Any news of Nick?’ she asked worriedly, and the nurse smiled and patted her hand comfortingly.

  ‘I’ll go and find out. Stay here.’

  She was back minutes later. ‘He’s dislocated his shoulder,’ they were told. ‘They’re going to put it back in under sedation, and then he can go home once it’s been strapped up.’

  Just then there was a yelp, and a sob of relief, and she met the nurse’s eyes. ‘That was him,’ she said, her heart hammering at the thought of him in pain.