Facing Up To Fatherhood. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
to believe the baby was his, though he did give her some money for a termination.’
‘Which she obviously didn’t have…’
‘No. Sarah didn’t believe in abortion.’
‘Thank God,’ the woman sighed, and smiled down at the baby in her arms before glancing up at Tina, tears in her eyes. ‘I’ve always wanted a grandchild. You’ve no idea. I honestly thought I would never have one. Dominic was so adamant about not wanting marriage and children. And then his brother, Mark…well—’
She broke off and frowned at Tina. ‘You said you were made the baby’s legal guardian. Why is that, Tina? I know you said you were like a sister to this Sarah, but what about the child’s maternal grandparents? Or aunts and uncles?’
‘Sarah’s mother died in a house fire when she was nine. Sarah never knew her father, or her grandparents. Her mum was a bit of a black sheep, you see. Ran away from her home in the country to the city when she was a teenager. She wasn’t married when she had Sarah. I gather the father abandoned them before she was born. So, no, there are no close relatives interested in Bonnie. I’m all she’s got at the moment.’
‘I see. And what is your situation, dear? Are you married?’
‘No, I’m not.’
Mrs Hunter’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I see. Er…are going to raise little Bonnie all by yourself, then?’
‘I will if I have to, Mrs Hunter. But I’d prefer to have some help. I haven’t any family, either, you see. My mother died in the same house fire Sarah’s did. She was an unmarried mother too, you see. And a runaway as well.’
Not to mention a woman of the night. Both women had been. But Tina thought it best not to bring up too much of their unsavoury backgrounds lest Mrs Hunter be the sort of person who thought such things were hereditary and not environmental.
‘When Welfare could find no relatives who wanted us,’ she went on matter-of-factly, ‘Sarah and I spent the rest of our growing-up years in a state institution.’ When they hadn’t been fostered out to people, that was.
‘Goodness. You poor things!’
‘We survived, Mrs Hunter. But you can understand how we became so close. Sarah has entrusted me with the care and upbringing of her daughter and I aim to make sure she has the very best. I have no intention of Bonnie ever ending up like we did, with no money, and no adult to love and care for her.’
‘You won’t have to worry about that, dear. I’ll be here for her, and for you. And so will Dominic, once I have a word or two with him. You can depend on that! Look, I think you’d best come inside and tell me absolutely everything. Then I think you’d best stay till Dominic gets home this evening and we can have a family pow-wow over all this.’
Tina was taken aback. ‘Your son lives with you?’
‘Well, yes…he does.’
‘Oh, dear!’
‘He’s not a Mummy’s boy, if that’s what you’re thinking. His decision to live with me was a practical decision, not a sentimental one.’
‘Believe me,’ Tina said drily, ‘I don’t think your son is a Mummy’s boy. It’s just that he’s not going to be pleased to find me here when he comes home. Maybe you could ring him at the office and forewarn him.’
‘Absolutely not! No! He doesn’t deserve forewarning,’ she said brusquely. ‘Besides, Fridays are never a good day to ring Dominic at the office. I’ve already rung him once today and received a very poor reception. Which reminds me. I’d best ring Joanna and cancel her dinner invitation for tonight.’
‘Not because of me, I hope,’ Tina said, while wondering who Joanna was. A friend of Mrs Hunter’s? Or Dominic’s?
Mrs Hunter smiled a strange little smile. ‘Not at all, dear. She’s just a widow friend of mine. She can come another night. I’m a widow too, so little Bonnie won’t be having a grandfather, I’m afraid. But you’ll have me, won’t you, darling?’ she crooned down at the baby. ‘Now, come along, dear, you bring the pram and I’ll carry Bonnie. We’ll have a cup of tea and a nice long chat. Then, afterwards, we might fill in the rest of the afternoon down at the shopping mall, buying a few little things for Bonnie here. Would you mind?’
‘Oh, er…not at all.’
Off the woman went, making baby talk at Bonnie as she went, leaving Tina to do as ordered, trailing after her with the pram in rather a daze. There she’d been, thinking Mrs Hunter was such a sweet, gentle soul.
Which she was. But she was also a whirlwind of energy and decisiveness. Tina supposed it was unlikely that a too soft or susceptible personality could have produced a son like Dominic Hunter.
Dominic Hunter…
A lesser girl might have quailed to think of his reaction when he first spied her in his home this evening. She could just imagine it. Those hard blue eyes of his would narrow dangerously. The thick straight brows above them would beetle together again while smoke would waft from his flared nostrils. His broad shoulders would broaden while that huge chest of his would fill with outraged air. He would be ready to explode in seconds!
Tina smiled to herself.
She could hardly wait.
CHAPTER FOUR
DOMINIC considered being deliberately late home. He even contemplated ringing his mother at the last moment and claiming a fictitious business dinner in town.
But cowardice wasn’t really his bag and he climbed into his blue BMW just before six and headed for the bridge. He would endure the dinner but had no intention of making any effort with that woman.
With a bit of luck Damien’s merry widow—and his matchmaking mother—would finally see he was a lost cause where she was concerned. Lord, nothing turned him off quicker than gold-digging females who gushed all over him.
Blondes weren’t really his thing, either. Nor double D cup breasts which jiggled like unset bowls of jelly.
Give him a tall, slender brunette, with long legs, a tight butt and firm boobs, and he was instantly interested. Make her a challenge and the combination was irresistible.
Joanna Parsons was neither.
An image of the brunette who’d been in his office today popped into his mind.
Again.
She’d been doing that all afternoon, even distracting him from work on several occasions.
Still, she’d been deliciously sexy in those tight white pedal-pusher pants and chest-hugging white ribbed top. Her hair was sexy too. Long and dark and kind of wild-looking, just like its owner.
Pity she was a con-artist. Or a fool.
Dominic was wondering which she might be when he turned into the driveway and parked the car outside the double garage. He still hadn’t made up his mind by the time he slipped in the back door.
He was halfway up the stairs, heading for the sanctuary of his bedroom and private en suite bathroom when the sound of a baby crying stopped him in his tracks.
Frowning, Dominic turned and listened. It seemed to be coming from the front living room.
The television?
Not the television, he decided when the cries came again. Too loud. And too…real.
An appalling possibility popped into his mind.
Surely not, he thought. She wouldn’t dare!
But then the baby cried again and he knew she had.
Whirling, he flew back down the stairs and over to the doorway of the room in question, disbelief and fury sending his blood pressure sky-high.
And there