Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
shameful ache of hunger she felt when she looked at him.
‘Careful, this bit is steep.’ He caught her elbow, seeing her eyes widen revealingly at the contact that sent an electric thrill through his body too. ‘So how was it?’
‘What?’
‘Your massage.’
With no warning an image scrolled through her head, hands strong and brown, clever long fingers kneading her flesh, and she almost stumbled. It would have taken more than a massage to iron out the knots in her neck and shoulders.
‘Very relaxing,’ she lied.
The cobbled surface became more even as they entered the harbour. The transition from the empty road, fringed by rain forest, to the lively little harbour, strung with coloured lanterns and lined with cafés and bars, was abrupt. The laid-back café atmosphere was a world away from the luxurious but carefully manicured world of the hotel. Lily preferred it—or she would have, had the circumstances that brought her here been less fraught.
Ben led her directly to a restaurant that had tables set out on a platform over the water.
‘I thought you’d like to sit outside?’ he said as they were led by a smiling waiter to a relatively private table at the water’s edge. Muted sounds of jazz playing from inside mingled with the sound of the water lapping against the harbour wall. It was relaxing. ‘Apparently the food is good.’
She huffed an impatient sigh. Why was he pretending this was civilised? ‘I’m not hungry.’
Elbows resting on the table, he leaned forward. It was a small table and their knees almost touched under it. Lily fought the urge to lean back; instead she sat bolt upright in her chair.
‘This doesn’t have to be so hard.’
Without warning, a fly-on-the-wall image of herself sitting astride Ben, her hands on his hot, damp skin, drawing hoarse cries from his parted lips, flashed into her head. She pressed a hand to her throat, felt the sweat pool in the hollow between her breasts and picked up the menu, wishing it were big enough to hide behind.
‘I’m not hungry,’ she repeated flatly.
He shrugged and sat back. ‘Suit yourself.’
She watched, indignant that he seemed so relaxed, as he calmly scanned the menu. It appeared to be written entirely in French, and he ordered in the same language.
Connecting with the smoky green eyes regarding him with hostile suspicion above the menu, Ben arched a brow.
‘I’ll just have a salad,’ she said to the waiter.
Ben waited until the young man had left before saying, ‘I’ve spoken to my lawyer.’
The word sent alarm bells off. Thoughts of custody battles spinning through her head, she pulled herself back from the brink of panic.
‘Water?’
She nodded and ran her tongue across her dry lips. ‘Please,’ and added, ‘Lawyer?’
‘He’s making the necessary changes to my will.’
She looked at him blankly as he began to fill his own glass from the iced bottle on the table. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’m not planning on dying tomorrow or any time soon, but should something happen...’
He sat there looking more vital and alive than any person on the planet. She nipped in a quick breath but it didn’t lessen the compressing band around her chest. She couldn’t think anything at all beyond a total rejection of a world that didn’t have this man in it.
‘I’m being practical.’
I hate practical, she thought.
‘I need to make provisions,’ he said, perfectly aware that he had flung himself headlong into the practicalities of his new role because it delayed the moment when he’d have to face up to the other aspects—aspects he felt unqualified to tackle.
Could love be learnt? Or were the experts who claimed that a person who’d not been loved as a child could never feel that emotion in their own life right?
He pushed aside the questions in his head and continued. ‘Oh, and the trust fund, they can run the details past you next. I’m assuming that you would like to be one of the trustees?’
With all the talk of trust funds and wills, Lily’s head had started to spin. ‘This is all very—’ She looked at him with a frown and shook her head. ‘I thought you’d want to ask me questions...’
‘About what?’ He pretended not to understand the you’ve got to be joking look she slung him.
‘Emmy.’ Her frown deepened as she struggled to name the emotion she had seen flicker in his eyes before they shuttered and the blue surface showed nothing but her own reflection. ‘Don’t you want to know about her?’
‘I don’t know much about babies...she seemed to have all the right bits in the right places...’ he said, feeling as lame as he knew he sounded. ‘I know she has a good set of lungs.’
The inspired observation made her smile, then a moment later she stiffened. ‘How? How do you know?’
It was not difficult to see that her imagination was running riot. ‘I saw her, remember.’
‘And she was crying? Why...what?’
‘Don’t panic!’ He put his hands up in a calming gesture. She had leaned forward in her seat and looked ready to throttle the information out of him if he didn’t cough it up. ‘She’d fallen and bumped her head, chasing a cat, I think.’ His hand went to his throat. ‘She ate my tie.’ His blue eyes softened at the memory.
Lily leaned back in her seat. ‘Everything goes in her mouth.’ She caught herself smiling and stopped. ‘So what’s the deal here, then? Do you want to spend time with her?’
‘Of course I do. She’s mine, I’d like to get to know her.’
‘A child takes up a lot of time, and you have a very busy schedule.’ It didn’t seem like a massive leap to make; a man didn’t reach his position unless he was a bit of a workaholic.
Ice formed in his expression as he listened to her. ‘Are you trying to suggest that I’d put my work ahead of my child?’
She looked surprised by the question. ‘It wouldn’t make you unique, but what I’m actually trying to say is that people don’t realise how much hard work a small child can be...even if it is just for the odd weekend.’ She dropped the napkin she had been twisting between her fingers, as the mental door she had closed against speculation opened another inch. ‘When you look after her, will you have a nanny?’ It seemed a massive extravagance to Lily for the handful of hours involved, but then he could afford it. ‘If you do, I’d like to be part of that choice.’
‘So you’ve no objection to nannies?’
‘Better a nanny than your latest girlfriend.’
‘So you want to be part of that choice too? Or am I to be celibate?’
‘Laugh if you want but—’
‘Relax. I want to get to know my daughter without third parties.’
Would there come a time when he would consider her an intrusive third party? The panic inside her grew until she was within a second of telling him she’d changed her mind, that she wasn’t agreeing to anything at all. But then his calm voice cut through her inner turmoil.
‘I’m not trying to kidnap her, you know. I just want to be part of her life. I want—’ He paused and thought, What? What do you want, Ben? The answer, when it came to him, made him relax back in his seat. ‘I want her to know that if she ever needs me I’ll be there.’
There was no question that he was genuine.