His-And-Hers Family

by Helen Lacey

  “But why did Karen blame you?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a no-brainer—I brought Yvette into the family. Karen needed to hold someone responsible.”

  “That’s not altogether logical.”

  “It was to her. She was hurting. After the sting had left and once Yvette was out of my life, I understood Karen’s reaction.”

  Fiona fought the need to go to him. But if he wanted comfort, he would ask her for it, wouldn’t he? “Did you make peace with Karen before she passed away?”

  “Mostly. We talked. She told me they were trying to rebuild their marriage.”

  “Is that why they were on holiday?”

  He shrugged again, this time stiffer. “Karen asked me for advice. I suggested she work out what they enjoyed doing together. Rock fishing is what she came up with.” When Fiona raised both brows, he continued. “Sex wasn’t it, according to my sister. Which I guess explains why Jim fell for Yvette.”

  “And what was Yvette’s excuse?”

  “Boredom, narcissism...you can take your pick. For three months she did a good impression of caring about someone other than herself.”

  “You mean you?”

  Another shrug. “I thought it was time I settled down. I was tired of coming home to an empty apartment. Yvette is the daughter of a business associate and we hit it off when we met. Or so I thought.”

  He didn’t mention love, didn’t say he was swept away by the other woman and had to make her his own. “You couldn’t forgive her?”

  “No. More for Karen than myself. My sister had a twenty-year marriage at stake. But as far as Yvette and I were concerned, I got over it. I got over her.”

  Ridiculously relieved, Fiona continued. “And Karen?”

  “She...died.”

  She pushed her feet forward and moved in front of him. “That wasn’t your fault.”

  His impassive expression was impossible to read. “It was my suggestion she try to reconnect with Jim by doing something they enjoyed doing together.”

  Her fingers itched to bond with him and she touched his arm. “And still not your fault.”

  He grunted. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I was going to ask you if I could take Cecily to—”

  “I meant you and me,” he interrupted. “You in particular.”

  Fiona swallowed hard. “What... Okay...what in particular?”

  “I just want to make sure my family isn’t giving you the third degree. They can be intrusive at times, although with the best intentions. Ellen and my mother are—”

  “They’ve been great,” Fiona said quickly. “If they overstep sometimes, it’s only because they care about you and Cecily. I’m an unknown quantity to them and it’s natural they’d be curious.”

  His mouth thinned and he covered her hand with his. “According to Ellen, you’re a hit anyway. I’m probably being overcautious.”

  Fiona’s skin burned where he touched her. “I can do this. I want this, Wyatt. I want to be here for Cecily. I want your family to know I’m a good person and that I would never do anything to hurt Cecily.” She stopped, paused, looked directly into his eyes. “Or anyone else.”

  “Fiona,” he said and softly rubbed her hand with his thumb. “You are extraordinary. But I raced into the thing with Yvette without really knowing her. Because I was rash, a whole lot of people got hurt. I won’t do that again, regardless of how much I...how strong the connection is here. I can’t deny I’m drawn to you.” He urged her closer. “Or how much I want you. Like right now, I just want to kiss you.”

  “But I thought...when you left Crystal Point we weren’t... I didn’t think you wanted this.”

  “I backed off, yes,” he said on a sigh. “Because you wanted time with Cecily and our involvement was distracting you from that. I promised you three weeks where you could get to know your daughter.”

  “That’s why I got the big-brother routine during that last week?”

  He half smiled and leaned closer. “Yes. Just so you know, I don’t feel the least bit brotherly toward you.”

  “I thought...I thought it was because of what I told you.”

  His expression narrowed. “Because of Corbett?” He shook his head. “Nothing you said made me look at you differently. You weren’t to blame for that, Fiona. You were an innocent girl. Innocent,” he said again with emphasis as he grasped her chin. “And I will always be sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

  She melted, as she knew she would. He kissed her with such searing passion and skill Fiona’s knees threatened to give way. So she held on, gripping his shoulders with a kind of mad desperation. It had been forever since he’d kissed her with such intensity, and she craved his touch and possession as if it was a searing thirst.

  Fiona thrust her fingertips into his hair and pulled him closer. She loved him so much. Wanted him so much. And she almost told him so. Almost. Something held her back, a lingering fear, from long ago, from now. From the very moment she found herself in. No one has ever truly loved me. Why would Wyatt? He wanted her, which was obvious. But if it were just sex? If it were only ever just sex...would that be enough?

  “Fiona...” he muttered against her lips. “I want to—”

  “Knock, knock!”

  A tap on the door, and Cecily’s chirpy voice acted like a bucket of cold water. They pulled apart like a pair of guilty teenagers, and Fiona pushed her hair back with a shaky hand.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” her daughter said with a cheek-splitting grin, “but Nan said that the pizzas are on the table and the barbecue is ready and everyone is waiting on you guys.”

  Wyatt stepped toward the door. “Thanks, kiddo. We’ll be along in a minute.”

  Cecily grinned again, looking outrageously pleased. “Take your time.”

  Once she’d scooted off, Wyatt turned back to Fiona. “Are you okay?”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  “It’s not the first time she’s caught us together. I daresay it won’t be the last.”

  Fiona drew in a breath. “So, you want to continue?”

  “Maybe not right now,” he said and smiled. “But you’re here for the weekend, right? So we’ll see where this goes. There’s no hurry, is there?”

  Fiona smiled, but it didn’t touch her heart. One weekend didn’t make a relationship. Weekends were for lovers. Once she returned to Crystal Point, how often would they have an opportunity to see one another? And how many long-distance relationships lasted? “No hurry,” she said agreeably and tried to forget the ever-growing pain in her heart. He wanted slow. She wanted now. How could it ever work?

  * * *

  Over dinner, Wyatt felt the scrutiny of his family’s curiosity more than ever. They did, he suspected, imagine they were watching a little romance unfold before their eyes. And maybe they were, but he didn’t like their interference one bit. He certainly wasn’t about to do anything obvious to encourage their notions.

  Ellen’s none-too-subtle comments about Fiona having more than one reason to visit Waradoon again had Alessio shushing her. Even Rae, who’d arrived late and made no apology, had cast her older sister a death stare. To her credit, Fiona took it in her stride. En masse, his family could be overwhelming...and Yvette had certainly complained about it on a number of occasions. The überexuberence his sisters displayed had become exaggerated since Karen’s death. He suspected the girls did it for their father’s benefit, overcompensating to relieve some of his grief. Wyatt understood, but he didn’t want Fiona stuck in the middle of their games.

  Because he liked her. And it wasn’t simply because his libido had jumped off the Richter scale since he’d known her. Sure, he enjoyed making love to her. They were great in bed together. But he knew great sex wasn’t enough to sustain a long rela
tionship. She’d accused him of not trusting her and she was right. Yvette’s betrayal still had a sting, and that sting made Wyatt question Fiona’s motives, even if it were the last thing he wanted to believe. But what if she were cozying up to him simply to get close to Cecily? He knew how much she wanted a permanent relationship with her daughter. What would she do to get it? He didn’t like how the thought made him feel.

  Wyatt looked across the table and she met his gaze immediately, as though they were connected by some invisible force. Stupid. He was becoming way too sentimental. Her eyes asked him what was wrong, and he shook his head fractionally. He wasn’t about to get into it over the dinner table.

  She smiled and nibbled her lower lip a little. Her mouth glistened wetly, and Wyatt’s body tightened instantly. He’d planned to spend the night at Waradoon. But maybe that wasn’t a great idea. Spending the night with Fiona was out of the question. Yet spending the night with Fiona was exactly what he wanted to do.

  With dinner over, Ellen and Alessio left by nine o’clock. Rae headed off to bed shortly after, muttering something about an early morning start drenching the neighbor’s cattle, and Cecily bounded out of the room to hook up with Lily Preston on Skype. With only his parents and Fiona remaining in the front living room, everyone sipping coffee bar him, Wyatt could feel his mother’s curiosity because she wore it like a beacon. Seeing him happily married off would thrill her to pieces. And it looked as though, just like Cecily, his mother considered Fiona a prime candidate for the role. He could see Janet’s mind working in overdrive, planning a wedding, imagining more grandchildren.

  But he wouldn’t be pushed. Not until he was certain it would last. The lukewarm feelings he’d had for Yvette, mostly fuelled by physical attraction, waved in front of him like a red flag. He wouldn’t be that shallow again. If Fiona had feelings for him other than desire, she didn’t really show it. And with the idea she might be playing him just a little hanging around in the back of his mind, Wyatt knew he wasn’t in any position to start thinking long-term. He didn’t know her very well. And Yvette had proven his instincts sucked. What if it was just an act? She wanted her daughter—could he be sure she wouldn’t do anything to get her? But as she watched him with her smoky blue-gray eyes, it made Wyatt want her all the more.

  As if on cue, his parents bade them good-night. Within moments they were alone. Fiona remained on the sofa, cradling a coffee cup.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Intuitive to the core, he thought. “Yes.”

  “If it’s not, I’d rather you just say so,” she said on a breath. “Ever since we sat down to dinner, you’ve looked like you want to punch someone.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I want to spend the night with you,” he said flatly. “And I can’t.”

  She placed her empty cup on the side table and crossed her legs. “But it wouldn’t be appropriate anyhow, would it? Considering your earlier speech about taking things slow.”

  “I guess not.” As if he was going to get any sleep knowing she was tucked away in the guesthouse. It would be a better idea to go back to his apartment and stare at the ceiling. “I have to get back to the city. I have a meeting tomorrow.”

  “On a Saturday?”

  He half shrugged and stretched the truth as far as his conscience would allow. “Sure. So I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “At the charity dinner, remember?”

  “Oh, yes.” She sounded vague, not like herself. “Well, goodbye, Wyatt.” She stood and grabbed her cup. “I’ll take this to the kitchen and return to the guesthouse.”

  He watched her leave and felt like the biggest jerk of all time.

  * * *

  Fiona had never owned a more beautiful dress. The luxurious satin was decadent and cool against her skin, and the only underwear she wore was a black thong. Cecily helped with her hair and she did the same in return. Makeup went on with emphasis around her eyes using a smoky kohl pencil and a shimmering gloss on her lips.

  “Wow,” her daughter said when she was done and insisted Fiona twirl. “Totally hot. Wait until Uncle Wyatt sees you.”

  Fiona looked at her reflection in the long mirror. She hadn’t seen Wyatt all day. After his announcement about returning to the city, she’d spent most of the day jumping between loving him and loathing him. Of course, loving had won out. But she remained angry. He could have stayed. Even if only to spend time together. Their relationship was going backward. Thankfully, the bond she’d created with Cecily was flourishing. She adored her daughter and cherished every moment she spent in her company.

  “I gotta run,” Cecily announced. “Thanks for doing my hair. But if I don’t get into my dress in the next five minutes, Nan will come looking for me. See you at the dinner.”

  Fiona frowned. She’d assumed they’d be traveling together in her grandparents’ car.

  “But I thought—”

  “You look great,” Cecily said on a rush of breath and hugged her carefully. “See ya.”

  She disappeared through the door, and Fiona heard the security screen slide open and shut. After checking her hair and makeup, Fiona grabbed her small bag. It was six-thirty and the party started at seven. Figuring she’d better make her way into the main house or risk being left behind, she shut off the bedroom light and walked into the living room.

  She stopped dead in her tracks.

  Wyatt stood by the door, dressed in a tuxedo, and looked so gorgeous it stole her breath. His glittering gaze swept over her appreciatively as he dazzled Fiona with a smile.

  And she fell in love with him all over again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Are you ready to go, beautiful?”

  Fiona rocked backward and teetered on her ridiculously high heels. “I thought you were in the city?”

  “I was. But I’m here now.” He admired her again, lingering around her waist and then higher to where her breasts pushed upward and added a generous swell to her cleavage. “You look sensational.”

  She shuddered beneath his appraisal. “It’s the dress.”

  “It’s you. Not the dress.”

  “You paid for it,” she said snippily, irritated that he was egotistical enough to turn up and imagine she’d been waiting for him. “The dress, I mean.”

  “It was clearly a great investment.” He checked his watch. “But if we don’t get moving, we’re going to be late. My father is the emcee for the evening and he growls if people walk in halfway through one of his infamously poor jokes.”

  Minutes later, Fiona was buckled into the front seat of Wyatt’s BMW and waited until he’d started the engine before she spoke again. “So, is this a date?”

  He glanced at her, pushed off the parking brake and grinned. “Yeah.”

  “You might have let me know.”

  He drove the car along the paved driveway. “I thought it was a given.”

  “And I thought I was traveling with your parents and Cecily.”

  “Even after I asked you to come with me?”

  Fiona kept her gaze straight ahead. “That’s not exactly what you said.”

  He shrugged. “Semantics.”

  “You’re being a real jerk, you know that?” she said and suddenly wished he’d take her back to the house so she could rid herself of the beautiful dress and then flop onto the bed and cry her heart out.

  He sighed. “I apologize. Let’s start again. You look beautiful and I’d be honored to take you to the charity dinner tonight.”

  Oh, he was good. She got rid of her frown and sort of smiled. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.”

  “So, friends again?”

  Fiona wasn’t going to let him off the hook as easily as he wanted. “I’ll
think about it. And only if you tell me why you really left last night.”

  He sighed heavily. “A momentary lapse of good sense.”

  “Try again.”

  “Are you sure you want me to say?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” he said in that maddeningly calm way she’d become familiar with. “It occurred to me that we’ve got to a certain stage fairly quickly.”

  “And you want to take things slow,” she replied. “I get that.”

  “But we haven’t. So I was wondering why. I mean outside of the fact we have this insane chemistry. I know you want to get close to Cecily and—”

  Fiona snapped her neck sideways as the blood in her veins simmered. “What is it you think I’m doing?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  But she was. She could put two and two together. And the number she came up with made her sick to the stomach. Suddenly it became altogether too clear what he meant. “Do you think I slept with you simply to stay close to my daughter?”

  “As I said, I’m not—”

  Fiona’s insides burned. “I don’t have sex for favors.”

  He groaned. “I’m sorry. Of course I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I’m not my mother. And I’m not your ex.” Fiona fired off her shots as coolly as she could. “Not all women resort to trickery and manipulation. If you thought that about me, I’m surprised you let me anywhere near Cecily.”

  “I don’t think that about you. Actually, I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking. All I seem to do is say the wrong thing to you and that’s certainly not my intention. So yeah, maybe I do have some lingering hang-ups from finding the woman I was going to marry in bed with another man. And that has made me cautious...and sometimes plain old suspicious.”

  It was quite the admission considering he was usually as emotionally impenetrable as a vault. Janet had said he was vulnerable beneath his no-nonsense, pragmatic exterior. At that moment, Fiona knew the other woman was right.

  “O-o-kay. We agree you’re not perfect?”

  “Unanimously.”