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Her Secret, His Child: A Night, A Secret...A Child / One-Night Love-Child / The French Aristocrat's Baby. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Her Secret, His Child: A Night, A Secret...A Child / One-Night Love-Child / The French Aristocrat's Baby - Miranda Lee


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were right. Our relationship, such as it was, is dead in the water. All that was left was some lingering flames. This afternoon snuffed out the last of those flames, good and proper. For which I am grateful. Now I can go back to my life the day after tomorrow and not give you a second thought. And you, my love, will surely do the same.’

      Serina was grateful that he turned away from her at that point. For her face had to have betrayed her shock at this last statement.

      Not give him a second thought?

      Was he insane, or just seriously deluded?

      ‘Better shake a leg,’ he said over his shoulder as he strode from the bedroom in the direction of the living room.

      She stumbled out of the bed, only then realising that her clothes were out in the living room. Where he was.

      To walk out there naked after what he’d just said sent a shiver running down her spine. Not once, in the past, had Nicolas referred to her as a ‘lay’, either good or otherwise. The word was repulsive in her eyes. Didn’t he know how much she still loved him? Hadn’t he felt the love in her lips? In her willingness to do whatever he wanted?

      Of course not. Why would he? She’d acted like a tough cookie on the way here, saying that sex was all he was good for. She only had herself to blame for the way he was treating her.

      But, oh… it had been wonderful for a short while. She’d been able to pretend that nothing had changed, that they were young lovers again, where nothing existed for her but the heat of the moment. She’d wallowed in the thrill of obeying his commands; in playing the role of his love slave.

      But the time for pretence was over now, she realised as a bleak dismay filled her heart. It was time to go back to the real world and her real life. Time, too, to get a grip.

      Gathering herself, she hurried into the bathroom, where she grabbed a towel and was wrapping it tightly around her nakedness when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the vanity mirror.

      Goodness, she could not go back to the office looking like that! Her hair was a mess, her lips looked puffy and her eyes…

      If eyes were the windows to one’s soul, then her soul was in big trouble!

      Steeling herself once more, she hurried out to the living room where she found Nicolas making himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Ignoring his sharp, top-to-toe glance, she set about scooping up her clothes from the floor. Finally, and without a single word, she snatched up her handbag as well and bolted back to the bathroom.

      Serina had just made herself look respectable when her mobile phone rang. She stiffened before rifling the handset out of the bottom of her bag and whisking it to her ear. Since the terrible call about Greg’s death, she experienced a rush of anxiety whenever her mobile rang at odd times. Felicity knew not to ring her on it unless there was an emergency. But who else could it be?

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘It’s only me, Serina,’ her mother replied somewhat wearily. ‘Not Felicity. You have to stop worrying about that child, dear. She’s extremely capable of looking after herself.’

      ‘Yes, Mum. I do know that. So what’s up? It’s not like you to ring me on this phone.’

      ‘I tried the office number but it was engaged. That’s why I rang you on your mobile. I thought you might like to know how things went with Mrs Johnson today.’

      ‘Oh, yes, yes, I would. But can you tell me quickly? I’m still in Port Macquarie, and I told Felicity I’d be home by four.’

      ‘What are you doing in Port?’

      Serina swallowed. ‘Having lunch with you know who.’

      ‘Who? Oh, you mean Nicolas Dupre. Really? I’m surprised. I got the impression you weren’t too pleased with Felicity for securing his services as judge for the talent quest.’

      ‘I wasn’t. And I didn’t want to have lunch with him, believe me,’ she said. ‘But he asked me in front of those silly girls in my office and they made it impossible for me to refuse.’

      ‘You’re right. They are silly, those two. But nice girls all the same. So what’s he like these days? Still handsome, I would expect.’

      ‘Mum, could this conversation wait till later? I’m running out of time and I can’t talk whilst I drive.’ It seemed wise to let her mother think she had her own wheels.

      ‘It will have to be much later. I haven’t left Newcastle yet.’

      ‘So how is Mrs Johnson?’

      ‘Healthy as a horse. The doc gave her some mild blood pressure pills and told her to lay off the sherry.’

      ‘Which she won’t.’

      ‘I doubt it. Anyway, dear, off you go and I’ll ring you when I get home.’

      ‘Please do.’ And she hung up.

      ‘Who were you talking to in here?’ Nicolas said as he flung open the door.

      ‘My mother,’ she replied brusquely, and dropped the phone back into her bag. ‘She rang to let me know how Mrs Johnson is.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘She’ll live till she’s a hundred. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to Rocky Creek.’

      ‘You’re the one who’s been taking your time. Let’s go.’

      The drive back to Rocky Creek was excruciating. Neither of them spoke, not a single word.

      Serina stared through the passenger window and tried not think about what she’d just done. If her mother ever found out she’d jumped into bed with Nicolas within hours of his returning, she would not believe her. Of course, her mother never knew about the highly sexual nature of their teenage affair. She probably thought her dear darling daughter had gone to her wedding night a virgin.

      Serina would have liked to confide in her mother. To confess everything. But she couldn’t. Her mother would not understand. She would be totally shocked, and bitterly ashamed.

      I’ll have to do what I’ve always done, Serina thought wearily. Keep my mouth shut and all my dark dirty secrets to myself.

      Just after they’d gone through Wauchope, Nicolas’s own brooding silence began to seriously bother her. If he considered their relationship dusted and dried, as he’d claimed, then why was he so angry with her?

      And he was. She could feel his anger hitting her in waves.

      They were just coming down the hill towards the bridge that crossed Rocky Creek when she decided to speak up.

      ‘There’s no need for this, Nicolas,’ she said with more calm than she was feeling. ‘It’s childish.’

      ‘What’s childish?’

      ‘Giving me the cold-shoulder treatment. Look, I’m sorry if things haven’t worked out the way you might have imagined. I’m sorry I’m not the girl you remember. Like I said, things change. So do people.’

      His sidewards glance showed a reluctant flash of admiration. ‘You’ve certainly grown up a lot.’

      ‘Marriage and motherhood has a tendency to do that.’

      ‘Are you saying I haven’t grown up?’

      ‘Not at all. But parenthood has a way of forcing a person into early maturity, and into being less selfish.’

      ‘Ah, so you’re saying that I’m selfish.’

      ‘Don’t put words into my mouth, Nicolas. You would know better than me if you’re selfish or not.’

      Nicolas nodded. ‘I suspect that I am. My mother always said I was.’

      They both fell silent again as he drove into town. Despite knowing she would see Nicolas again the next day,


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