The Aristocrat and the Single Mom

by Michelle Douglas

  Perhaps it wasn’t anger at all, but…frustration? Physical, body-yearning frustration. That thought didn’t improve her mood either.

  Simon’s head jerked back. That mask of his slipped into place and she wanted to slap it away. ‘Would you like to be a little more explicit?’

  Ooh, she’d give him explicit all right. ‘Try playing with my son’s feelings on for size,’ she snapped.

  He took a step back. Colour drained from his face. ‘You want me to stop playing cricket with Jesse?’

  ‘Last week you would barely give him the time of day. This week you’re all friendly and making him love you when you’ll be gone in a few days. Do you call that fair?’

  He’d leave and forget all about them.

  Consternation replaced his surprise. Hurt flashed across his face so briefly she wondered if she’d imagined it. At the same moment, her anger fizzled away.

  ‘I…I didn’t realise.’

  She wanted to cry. She wanted to hug him. Neither one of those reactions could possibly be construed as appropriate.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  Stay. She wanted him to stay. She stared at him, appalled, as the knowledge pounded through her. She wanted him to stay. But he couldn’t.

  Simon set his shoulders. ‘I’ll make sure I’m not here tomorrow. And Wednesday, I’ll be here briefly because I’d hate him to think I’ve forgotten him, but I’ll make some excuse and I won’t play cricket with him. I’ll ease back.’

  He’d done his best to keep his voice even, but the ache behind it almost undid her.

  ‘Kate, I wouldn’t hurt you or yours for the world.’

  ‘I know.’

  She had so much and he had so little. Even if he succeeded in patching things up with Felice, he had in a sense already lost her. Not that he knew that yet. And now she’d made him feel bad about caring for Jesse.

  ‘Don’t even think that,’ she said vehemently, recognising the lines of defeat in his shoulders. And his eyes. His beautiful grey eyes. ‘This is not more proof that you’re a failure with kids. Over the last few days everything you’ve done with Jesse has been perfect.’

  It was true. If he was staying…

  But he wasn’t.

  ‘Perfect,’ she repeated. ‘It’s just happening at the wrong time in the wrong place.’

  She reached up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek because she couldn’t help it. Because in all likelihood this would be the last time she’d ever see him on his own. Ever.

  Simon watched Kate walk away. He touched the spot on his cheek where the imprint of lips burned. He wanted to race after her, haul her into his arms and to hell with the consequences.

  But something told him the consequences would be too big. He didn’t care for himself. But Kate? Kate deserved something better.

  He swung away. He couldn’t stand the sight of her walking away from him. He’d removed himself from her house. She was removing him from the rest of her life. It was only wise and right.

  He headed down onto the sand and kicked off his flip-flops, twisting his body until sand covered his feet to the ankles. It didn’t help. Not this time. Not a single ounce of tension eased out of him.

  With an oath, he threw himself down on the sand to rest his arms on bent knees. He stared moodily out at the bay—calm and smooth—but none of its tranquillity could ease his turmoil. Kate wanted him to stop playing with Jesse. A second hole opened up somewhere in the region of his chest. She wanted him to stop spending time with Jesse. Rightly so, he reminded himself, but he hadn’t known it would make him feel…

  Bereft. Like he was already grieving.

  Somewhere along the line something inside him had changed. He’d played cricket with Jesse that first day in the park here because there’d been mothers—responsible adults—nearby. Mothers who would puff up at him if he did anything wrong—like Kate had just done, like the mother of his little god-daughter had done. He’d played with Jesse that first day because he hadn’t been able to get Kate out of his mind. But all the days after that, he hadn’t noticed the mothers. When playing with Jesse, he hadn’t thought about Kate—Jesse’s nonstop chatter and the exercise had seen to that.

  Without trying too hard, he’d formed an easy, relaxed friendship with Jesse. He’d started to grow fond of the little boy, love him, because he was so damn easy to love.

  Were all children like that?

  Everything you’ve done with Jesse has been perfect. Kate’s words sounded through him.

  Wrong place. Wrong time.

  Perfect.

  He leapt up. He started to pace. Could Kate be right about this too? Hope he’d never allowed himself to feel started hammering at defences he’d erected a long time ago. Could he have children of his own?

  Perfect.

  Yes, he could! The knowledge poured into him—a gift. Kate was right. He could have children. He would have children. He wanted those children with a fierceness he didn’t try to check or suppress or deny.

  Yet…there was only one woman he wanted to have those children with. He swung in the direction of her house…of her. He had to tell her. Now.

  He started to jog. Falling in love with Kate, learning to love Jesse—there could never be a wrong time or wrong place for that. He started to pick up speed, his legs eating up the distance as he hurtled towards the stairs that led up to her house. He had to tell her she was perfect for him. He had to convince her he was perfect for her. He had to convince her to take a chance on them.

  ‘Kate!’

  Kate swung around and almost fell over at the sight of Simon at her back door. He stepped inside, his chest heaving as if he’d sprinted up here as fast as he could from the beach—like Jesse did sometimes.

  Alarm dashed through her. ‘What is it?’ She raced over and shook his arm. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he panted. ‘I’ve just come to my senses and I had to tell you—’

  He broke off to rest his hands on his knees. What did he have to tell her?

  ‘It hit me, you see, then I had to get up here as fast as I could…and now…just got to catch my breath,’ he wheezed, gesturing to his chest. ‘Out of condition.’

  Fiddlesticks. Simon Morton-Blake was lean and dreamboat-hard. She knew. She’d had a full body imprint.

  Not a good thought, she realised when her blood started to chug. If it didn’t slow down she’d be resting her hands on her knees and breathing hard too.

  After three deep breaths he straightened and his hands descended to her shoulders. At the look in his eyes her blood started to bubble. He opened his mouth. She couldn’t drag her eyes from those lean, firm lips. Lips that had taken her to heights she hadn’t known she could scale. Lips that had uttered words in exactly the right way.

  ‘I…’ He swallowed. ‘Er…’

  Except now.

  ‘Verisimilitude,’ she whispered.

  He gazed at her blankly. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Yes, he said that perfectly too. ‘Just say it,’ she ordered. Well, she meant it to be an order but it came out more like a plea. If she had to beg, so be it. She may never hear that word uttered in this exact same fashion ever again.

  His brows drew together. ‘Verisimilitude.’

  Ooh, yes. A girl could swoon under the influence of that accent.

  Simon’s brow suddenly cleared and he seized her shoulders again. ‘Kate, I—’

  The front door crashed open and Kate’s name was piped through the house in an accent identical to Simon’s, only female.

  Simon’s jaw dropped. Then he grinned. ‘Felice?’

  Kate nodded. The moment she’d dreaded had finally arrived. Simon would leave Nelson’s Bay—perhaps as soon as tomorrow. And he probably wouldn’t even like her any more.

  It shouldn’t matter.

  But somehow it mattered more than anything else in the world.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FELICE burst into the room and the moment Simon’s eyes landed on her t
hey lit up. A shaft of pain slid between Kate’s ribs. Felice’s news would hurt him. She wanted to prevent anything from ever hurting him again. She knew that was ridiculous, impossible even.

  With a startled squeak, Felice slid to a halt.

  ‘Hey, sis,’ Danny said, coming up behind Felice.

  ‘Danny.’ She swallowed as she watched him glance from Simon to Felice. Nobody said anything. Kate cleared her throat. ‘Simon, this is my brother, Danny. Um…Danny, this is Simon…’

  ‘Felice’s brother,’ he finished for her. He stuck out a hand. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Simon said automatically, shaking it.

  But his eyes had only lifted from Felice’s face for a fraction of a second before returning. Kate’s heart bled a little more. She’d never seen Felice wear that shuttered expression before. When she folded her arms, she looked completely closed up.

  ‘I didn’t expect to find you still here, Simon.’

  No hello, no kiss on the cheek.

  ‘I wanted to make sure you were okay.’

  No frown or scowl, no roll of his shoulders, but the grey of his eyes darkened to the colour of charcoal.

  Felice snorted. ‘Wanted to make sure I wasn’t dragging the family name in the mud, more like.’

  Kate jumped in. ‘I talked Simon into taking advantage of the fabulous weather and having a holiday.’

  Felice’s eyes boggled. ‘A holiday?’ She stared at Simon. ‘You?’

  He grinned, but Kate sensed the effort behind it. ‘I decided to follow your lead. I have to say you’re onto something, Felice. I wish I’d listened to you earlier.’

  Felice’s jaw dropped. With a visible effort, she hauled it back up. Then her eyes narrowed, her shoulders went back and Kate knew exactly what the younger girl meant to hurl at him.

  No! She clapped her hands. They had to give him more time. All eyes turned to her and she forced a smile. ‘I wasn’t expecting you guys before Wednesday.’

  Danny’s hand curled around Felice’s. As Kate backed up towards the coffee machine, too afraid to take her eyes off any of them, Simon’s smoky gaze zeroed in on those linked hands. But she’d told him about that. That shouldn’t surprise him. She wished she’d found a better way to prepare him for what was to come.

  ‘Felice felt bad that we left you in the lurch.’

  Simon blinked at Danny’s words. ‘And did you leave Kate in the lurch?’

  Danny grinned at Kate. ‘Yes and no.’ Then he winked.

  Relief threaded through her. This she could handle. ‘As you can see, we’re utterly run off our feet. All hands on deck and whatnot. We even put Simon to work one weekend.’

  Felice’s jaw dropped again. Danny nudged her. ‘See? I said you were worried about nothing.’

  ‘Coffee everyone?’ She had to perform contortions to pour coffee beans into the machine without turning her back on anyone. They could all sit around the kitchen table like civilised adults, share some innocuous news, and then she’d drag Danny off so Simon and Felice could talk alone.

  She wished she was psychic, wished Danny and Felice were too so she could send that suggestion—command—straight to their brains.

  Felice’s face hardened as her initial shock wore off. Her chin lifted in determination. ‘Coffee? Oh, no, we’ve something much better than that.’

  Kate knew she couldn’t stop what was about to come. She wanted to yell at Felice to be gentle.

  ‘We bought champagne!’ Her high tinkling laugh reverberated in Kate’s head, making it throb. ‘To celebrate.’

  Simon’s forehead furrowed. ‘Celebrate?’

  Kate wanted to cry when she watched him clear his frown and do what he could to replace it with a smile. ‘What are we celebrating?’

  Kate closed her eyes.

  Felice continued in a hard voice Kate found difficult to associate with her. ‘I’m hoping you’ll toast my marriage to Danny.’

  Kate opened her eyes. Even behind her defiance, Felice’s happiness lit up the whole room as effectively as the sun did each morning. Envy surged through Kate. And yearning.

  With a swallow, she turned her head the tiniest fraction. Simon’s brow furrowed again. He dragged a hand back through his hair. ‘Married?’

  Kate barely recognised his voice. Felice held up her left hand to display her simple gold wedding band. The tan leached from his face and Kate wanted to yell at Felice and Danny—You haven’t given him enough time!

  She wanted to grab Simon’s arm and beg him not to say anything unforgivable, anything that would widen the breach between him and his sister.

  He turned, speared her with his gaze. ‘You knew about this?’

  ‘Yes.’ The admission croaked from her.

  His eyes blazed. ‘And you didn’t think to mention it to me?’

  ‘I thought Felice needed to be the one to tell you.’

  ‘You thought—’ His voice rose. ‘Well, you thought wrong!’

  He’d trusted her, and she’d betrayed that trust. For a moment she thought she might be sick.

  ‘Don’t go firing up at Kate,’ Felice shot at him. ‘She’s been nothing but kind and supportive and too lovely for words. And don’t bother starting in on Danny either,’ she added when Simon opened his mouth again. ‘He didn’t even know I had a family, let alone a wealthy, titled one, until after we’d married.’

  Simon’s lips tightened. ‘Starting married life off with a lie? Why would I expect anything less of you, Felice?’

  Felice started to shake with what Kate suspected was barely suppressed anger. ‘Marrying Danny is the one good thing I’ve done with my life. I love him more than life itself and I know he loves me too. Danny and Kate, they don’t care about things like what family a person comes from or how much money they have.’

  ‘I know.’

  Felice’s shaking stopped. ‘You do?’

  ‘I’ve spent nearly a week and a half in Kate’s company. It took less than an hour before I knew without question that she had decency and integrity. I would expect the same of the brother she had a hand in raising.’

  Kate couldn’t read the expression in his eyes, but she sensed the pain rolling through him. He might think she had decency and integrity, but it didn’t change the fact that he felt betrayed by her.

  ‘From all I’ve heard, Felice, you’re a lucky woman.’ His face remained immobile, wooden. ‘Congratulations. I hope you’ll both be very happy.’

  ‘So…so you’ll share a glass of champagne with us?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ll have to excuse me.’ He moved towards the back door.

  ‘So you don’t wish us happiness.’

  It was a statement, not a question. Simon turned from the door. ‘If you’d wanted me to toast you, Felice, you’d have invited me to your wedding.’

  ‘Get over yourself, Si. We didn’t invite anyone to our wedding. We didn’t have one. We eloped.’

  Felice said the words with a studied casualness that Kate saw through. She wondered if Simon did too.

  ‘We didn’t tell anyone, not even Kate, until after the event. In fact, until now she’s the only other person who knew. So you needn’t think we were playing favourites.’

  ‘Eloped?’ Simon took two steps back into the room. He turned to Kate and a flush of anger crossed his face. ‘So you hurt her too?’ He swung back to Felice. ‘After all the kindness and friendship she’s shown you, that’s how you treat her?’

  Felice gripped Danny’s arm. ‘We didn’t! We didn’t hurt your feelings, did we, Kate?’

  ‘I…’ She didn’t want to make Felice feel bad, but she couldn’t lie when Simon’s smoky eyes glared at her like that. ‘I’d have given anything to see my brother married to the woman he loved,’ she admitted.

  Felice’s hands went to her lips. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

  Kate dredged up a smile. ‘I know.’

  Then she turned and met Simon’s glare with one of her own. She folded her arms and ra
ised an eyebrow.

  ‘What?’ he suddenly exploded. ‘You still want me to apologise after…that?’ He waved his arm towards Felice and Danny.

  ‘That…’ Kate waved her arm in the same direction ‘…has nothing to do with the original issue.’

  He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. Like he had that first day on the beach. But she’d succeeded in getting him to loosen up then, hadn’t she?

  ‘Okay, it has everything to do with it,’ she amended. ‘It’s a result of the original issue. But do you want these results to continue? Felice will eventually have children. There’ll be christenings and events.’ Did he want to be excluded from those?

  Was he so angry he’d exclude himself for ever?

  He gripped her shoulders and anguish blazed in the depths of his eyes, quickly masked. He’d lost Felice. She could see that knowledge burning there. He’d lost her for ever because, even if he healed the breach, Felice lived here now—ten thousand miles away.

  Kate’s vision blurred. She had so much—Jesse, Danny and Felice, the extended family of Archie and her crew. Simon had nothing. No one. And he deserved everything.

  ‘Do what you came here to do, Simon,’ she croaked. There was no other way forward.

  ‘What…what is Kate talking about?’ Felice whispered to Simon. She’d pulled both of Danny’s arms around her in a kind of protective shield and leaned back against his chest. As always, Danny took everything in but said nothing.

  Simon released Kate’s shoulders and turned to Felice. Slowly. As if he was weary. As if he was a hundred years old.

  ‘I waited for you, Felice, because I wanted to apologise.’

  Felice moistened her lips. ‘Apologise?’

  ‘For being such a boor and a bully; for trying to control your life. I had no right to, but all I could see were the pitfalls, the ways you could be hurt.’

  ‘You didn’t trust me.’

  ‘No, and it was wrong of me, and I am sorry.’ His lips twisted briefly. ‘I was hoping we could start again, but it seems you’ve forged a new life for yourself.’ He nodded to Danny and then Felice. ‘As I said before, I wish you both happiness.’ Then he turned, walked out of the door and strode away.