Phoebe lay sleeping in her crib on the far side of the room, a contented cherub who had no idea she’d been abandoned. Who acted as if she’d been loved all her life.
So what of the future?
Forget the future, Sunny told herself. For now she was milking this moment for everything it was worth, taking Max’s love and savouring it because...because...
There was no because. There was no need to worry about the future. It was all now.
Her face was resting on Max’s chest. It should be an uncomfortable sleeping position but Max’s arms held her, supported her, cradled her body against him as if she were the most precious thing...
What it was to be precious in this man’s eyes...
‘Awake already?’ he whispered, his voice teasing, and she knew his eyes would already be glinting with laughter. In these last weeks there’d been so much...joy.
Joy to last a lifetime.
Do not think forward.
‘I’m dozing,’ she whispered back. ‘Don’t move. I think I’m in heaven.’
‘Really?’
‘Okay, I know I’m in heaven.’
‘Me too,’ he whispered but he did move and it was entirely appropriate that he did because heaven just got better.
Love... She let it take her where it would. Her surrender—and his—was complete.
When finally they surfaced the sun was streaming in. It was a stunningly perfect winter’s day. Phoebe was still sleeping but soon she’d stir. Their day would begin.
Seven days to go...
The last weeks had been...heaven. Sure, they’d had a tiny baby to care for but somehow she’d fitted right into their plans—right into their hearts?
‘I’d like to walk all the way around Central Park today,’ she ventured. There’d been so many things she’d seen, but the weather hadn’t permitted a full circuit.
‘Can we do that tomorrow? The forecast is for this weather to hold.’ He was holding her close, hugging her as if she belonged. Skin against skin... It was the most erotic sensation in the world. ‘Sunny...my secretary’s lined up nanny interviews this afternoon. I’d like you to sit in.’
‘Of course.’ That was what she was here for after all, but the thought was an intrusion, an acknowledgment that what was happening now was a dream. Time out of frame. A nanny would take over. Max would return to his high-pressure world.
She’d go...home.
‘But first...’ He kissed her gently on the lips, a feather touch, a touch of such intimacy she could weep. ‘If it’s okay... I’ve organised time out, something just for us. Eliza’s coming in to look after Phoebe. The nanny appointments are scheduled from three and after, so we’ll have time together.’
‘You’ve planned this.’
‘I have.’ Once more he kissed her. ‘Sunny, I need this day to be even more special than it is already.’
And then he gathered her even closer, the kiss became deeper, the need became more urgent...and there was no room for questions. There was room only for each other.
* * *
He wouldn’t tell her where they were going. ‘Wear what you wore underground,’ he said and he dressed that way as well, in a cool leather jacket, casual pants, a cashmere scarf that made him look...
Okay, she shouldn’t think of how he looked.
His car—with chauffeur—dropped them at the Rockefeller Center.
‘How are you on ice?’ he asked as he led her through the complex and she stopped so fast the couple walking behind them almost bumped into them.
‘Ice?’
‘I thought we might skate.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘This is the coolest ice rink in the world.’
‘And I don’t skate. I’ve never seen ice bigger than little cubes you put in drinks.’
‘You don’t rollerblade? Ski?’
She didn’t move, all the memories of her rubbish childhood flooding back. Watching other kids skateboard and rollerblade. Listening to kids telling tales of how their parents had taken them to the admittedly sparse Australian ski fields. Saving so she could buy roller skates for her siblings.
Not for her.
‘No,’ she said shortly. And then she thought that was no reason to spoil what for him seemed a very exciting plan. ‘But it’ll be fun to watch you.’
‘I have no intention of letting you watch,’ he told her and there was that smile again. ‘I pretty much guessed you’d have no experience. I was just checking. Will you trust me? This’ll be fun.’
Really? Fun for who?
But Max wasn’t listening to her protests. He led her on until the vast ice rink stretched before them. It wasn’t crowded—apparently Tuesday morning wasn’t the time for most people to skate—but there were enough skaters flying around the rink, spinning, doing figures of eight, totally at ease with their environment, for her doubts to consolidate into one great wall of objection.
‘I can’t.’
‘But I can,’ he said gently and then he asked again. ‘Trust me?’
Oh, for heaven’s sake... She’d break a leg. She’d have her fingers sliced off. She’d be carried home in a box...
‘I won’t let that happen,’ he said and she almost glared. How dare this man see what she was thinking? Was she so transparent?
‘Trust me,’ he said for the third time, and she gazed into his face. She thought of the warmth, the heat, the strength of this body she was starting to know and love so much and there was only one answer.
But first a quibble. ‘My pet goldfish...’ she murmured.
‘What?’
‘I need a pen and paper to write an advanced directive. If I die Daisy will want her, because she’s the responsible one, but she won’t talk to her and Flippy likes to chat. Flippy goes to Sam.’
‘You’re planning on writing a will—right here and now?’
‘I want it legal,’ she told him. ‘A paper napkin will do and a couple of random skaters for witnesses.’
‘Okay,’ he said faintly. ‘But then you’ll skate?’
‘You swear I’ll come out in one piece?’
‘I swear.’
‘I hold you to your promise but you never know. Flippy gets catered for first.’
So minutes later...skates on, standing—shakily—at the edge of the gorgeous rink, looking at skilled skaters using every inch of the ice, looking at the magnificent golden statue at the end of the rink, seeing the myriad sightseers watching the skaters...
She was ready?
She was so unready it was ridiculous.
‘Max...’
‘Trust me,’ he said for the fourth time and his arm came around her waist, strong and sure. ’Relax and let me guide you. Come on, Sunny, let’s fly.’ And that’s exactly what happened. Somehow, some way, she was out on the ice, flying over its surface, held tightly against Max... She was...skating.
She was really skating!
Or... not. If he was a matador, she was the cape, but in his skilled hands she moved as if she was born on the rink.
This man was seriously good. He skated as if it was a part of him—and she was another part. Or maybe not a part. Maybe she’d melted into him, been absorbed, just... Sunny and Max.
For the first few seconds she fought to relax, she had to school herself to trust him, but as she felt his skill, as she felt his strength and certainty, she found herself relaxing. More. Enjoying.
Loving?
For that was what this was. It was subjugation of her body to his but in a way that could only bring joy. She could think of nothing but this moment. There was no future, no past, simply this man spinning her around, moving her with a deftness that made her feel...
Like Torvill and Dean? The image of the world-famous Olym
pians sprang to mind and she almost choked on laughter. If she simply let Max do what he willed...
‘What’s funny?’ he asked into her hair as they spun seamlessly together and she smiled back. Her body was moulded to his. If he let her go she’d be a puddle on the ice in seconds, but he wouldn’t let her go. She knew it. She knew this man.
‘I’m thinking Olympics R Us,’ she managed and he chuckled and held her tighter.
‘It’s the together,’ he told her. ‘Together we can do anything we like. The world is ours, Sunny Raye. Let’s just enjoy it.’
And she did.
* * *
Could he do this? Take this one last step?
As he held her and skated, he felt his world almost dissolve in love and laughter and desire. But it didn’t quite dissolve. There remained a part of him that was almost separate, watching from above, seeing what he was doing and testing it for sense.
The sensible part of him, the part that had formed from childhood, turning finally and harshly into a dark, aloof entity the day they’d wrenched a pup from him and told him to grow up, that part said it was risky.
Could he do this? Could he love this woman and keep himself safe?
There were so many positives. Sunny would gain so much. Phoebe would grow up without that dark fear he had. And he...
He’d have Sunny beside him, curled against him in the dark, trusting, loving...
He could love her. He could keep her safe. They could be a family.
The two sides of him had warred since he’d met her, but now, holding her close as they spun, as she laughed and held him, as he felt her warmth, her trust...
He could love her. He would. The two sides of him could find some way of moving forward.
Some things were worth the risk.
* * *
She was so exhausted she could hardly speak. She was so in love...
When even Max was breathless, he led her from the rink, helped her remove her skates and took her to a tiny café high up, overlooking the rink, seemingly overlooking the whole of Manhattan.
They ate pancakes, piled high with creamed butter and maple syrup, with vast bowls of strawberries on the side. They drank coffee like Sunny had never tasted before. Nothing had ever tasted like this before. The world seemed to have changed. It was no longer her world. It was a fantasy.
And then, as the waiter cleared their dishes, as they were left in their private space, Max leaned over and took her hand.
And then, just as she thought the fantasy couldn’t get any better, he opened his other hand.
A box.
Crimson velvet.
Tiny.
He flicked it open and he smiled into her eyes with such tenderness she forgot to breathe. How could she breathe? Did she need to when this was a fairy tale?
But he was speaking. Somehow she had to pretend it was real.
Somehow she had to catch her breath.
‘Sunny Raye,’ he said, softly but surely. ‘I can’t think of a better time or a better place. I’ve fallen deeply in love with you, so deeply that I never want to let you go. So there’s only one question to ask. Will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?’
* * *
My wife...
A ring...
She felt as if she’d been shifted into a parallel universe.
He was handing her a ring.
How could she get her voice to work?
What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to pretend this fairy tale was real?
Yes! Every single fibre of her being screamed it. She wanted the fairy tale. She gazed down at the perfect diamond set in white gold, and the compulsion to slip it on her finger was so great it was like a physical force.
To marry this man she loved... To love Max Grayland for ever...
But in the end it was the skating that made her hesitate. It was the skating that made her look up into Max’s eyes, to see the love, but also something else.
And some survival instinct played back his words.
I never want to let you go.
The skating... He’d held her close. She’d been safe and she’d had fun but he’d been totally in control.
This was his world.
I never want to let you go.
So instead of looking mistily into his eyes and whispering what her heart most wanted—Yes!—she found another part of her answering. A part she didn’t want to acknowledge, but there seemed no choice.
‘How...how would that work?’ She could barely get the words out. ‘Max...how could marriage to me possibly work?’
‘Brilliantly.’ He was still holding her hand. The ring still lay on its bed of velvet, a siren song. It would be so easy to slip it on.
‘But...how?’
‘I have it planned. That’s why I needed to talk to you before we interview the nannies this afternoon. I thought I’d need a full-time nanny but...’
‘But you’ll marry me instead?’
‘That’s not the way I’d ever intend it,’ he said, suddenly harsh, in a voice that said he spoke absolute truth. ‘I don’t need to marry you to provide a nanny for Phoebe. I hope you know me better than that.’
‘Then...’
‘But we’ll still need one.’ His hold on her hand tightened.
She looked into his face and she thought, He has this all figured. She’d come in on this late. He had his plans in place.
‘You want to study architecture,’ he told her. ‘That can be arranged.’
‘I don’t have schooling...’
‘You’d pass every entrance test they could ever devise and I can pull strings. I can get you in. You can do it part-time if you like—that’d give you time to catch up on gaps you might have—or full-time if you want. That’s why we need to think about what we need the nanny for. I need to go back to work and give it my total commitment. I’ll cut back a bit—of course—but I can’t be depended on to be here for Phoebe. But you’d be here for her. The nanny would do the hard yards but she’d have you to love. And when I come home...we’ll be a family.’
‘When you come home...’
‘I’ll do the best I can,’ he told her. ‘But my job’s huge. But Sunny, think. Us. Family. No more cleaning. No more scrubbing your hands raw and worrying about money. I can take care of your grandparents...’
‘Now that’s something I don’t understand.’ And suddenly something inside her was growing angry. She hardly understood but the world was starting to look...a little bit red? ‘How can you do that? Chloe and Tom are due to go back to university at the end of summer. They lead their own lives. Are you intending to keep paying them to stay on with Gran and Pa?’
‘I can afford a carer—a good one. You can fly home and do the interviewing if you like. In fact you’d probably like to marry from there. I can take a little more time off if you need my help. We can take Phoebe with us, take the time to set things up to make them safe.’
‘By employing strangers.’ Her voice sounded hollow.
The ring was still on the table. The joy she’d felt on seeing it had disappeared completely. It seemed to be mocking her.
Why? Why couldn’t she just say yes? She could fall into his arms. She could live in his beautiful apartment for ever. She could love a little girl she... Well, to be honest, she already did love.
She could love a man she already did love.
‘Sunny...’ The hold on her hand was compelling. ‘You’ve put yourself last almost from the time of your birth. You’ve done everything for your family that you possibly could. It’s time to let me help.’
‘By employing strangers.’
‘By letting me make them safe. By giving you the chance to stop being a martyr.’
‘Is that what you t
hink I am—a martyr?’
‘Yes,’ he said gently. ‘You’ve done it for love but you’re a martyr nevertheless. I love you for it but I won’t let you continue. It’s Sunny’s time.’
‘I don’t think...’ She was struggling to get her mind to work. ‘Max, I don’t think doing anything for love can possibly be martyrdom. It’s just what you do.’
‘And you have done it. But it’s done. Dusted. It’s time for you to stop being needed.’
‘So if I lived with you... I wouldn’t be needed.’
‘You’d be loved—of course you’d be loved. But I wouldn’t let Phoebe’s needs stand in the way of your ambitions. We’ll employ the right nanny so you can be as involved as you want.’
‘But I wasn’t talking about Phoebe.’ Still her voice sounded hollow. Dull. She knew it but there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. ‘I was talking about you. Would you need me, Max?’
‘I want you.’
‘That’s not the same.’
‘Haven’t you had enough of being needed?’
‘Yes. No!’ She was so confused. The tenderness, the romance of the moment was gone.
‘Sunny, not everyone needs like your family does.’
‘You don’t need anyone?’
‘I’ve worked on that. Needing causes pain and I won’t go there. But Sunny, loving you...it’d bring joy...’
‘In the time we had available. The time between your business commitments. These weeks...they’ve been a time out for you, but you want to go back.’
‘I have to go back.’
‘To your business.’
‘It’s what I am.’
‘And there’s the difference.’ She was struggling to speak, struggling to get the words out. ‘My work isn’t what I am.’
‘Because you’re a cleaner.’
‘That’s insulting. As if what I do isn’t important...’
‘How can it be?’
‘Because it’s just work? And yours is different?’ She rose, pushing her chair back so fast it almost fell. The knot of anger inside her couldn’t be contained. But was it anger?
It was desolation. It was a sinking sense of certainty. It was the knowledge that the ring lying on the table could never be hers.
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