Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
have a jacket. It may not be your colour, Lily, but it is a practical solution.’
Lily sighed and gave in, grumbling, ‘What did you say about your grandfather? It’s his way or no way?’ She saw his startled expression before she turned around and, presenting her back to him, whipped her soiled top off, gasping a little as the cool air touched her skin.
His top settled against her skin, still warm from his body. It carried his scent mingled with expensive male fragrance or maybe soap. She felt a stab of guilt as her stomach muscles reacted to the intimacy of the shared body heat.
What sort of mother was she, distracted by sex at a moment like this?
She tugged her hair loose from the top and as she turned back Ben was zipping his jacket up, giving Lily a brief glimpse of his golden toned skin against the dark leather.
She knew that the image was going to stay with her.
He stood looking at her, his head a little to one side. ‘It looks better on you than it does on me.’
Blatantly not true. The garment, which was snug-fitting on him, was loose on her and hung baggily down almost to her knees. Lily despised her stomach-fluttering response to his compliment. And the fluttering got considerably worse when, without explanation, he stepped forward and began to competently roll first one sleeve and then the other up to her elbow level. His dark head was close enough for her to smell his shampoo as he performed the task.
Lily fought the impulse to lean into him. They shared a child but they were not a couple. She needed to remember that. She took a hasty, and not very elegant, step backwards.
‘Thanks.’
Without another word she vanished through the door. He picked up the soiled top she had dropped on the floor and, before he pushed it into the conveniently placed waste bin, found himself yielding to the impulse to lift it to his face.
His nostrils flared in response to the lemony scent it carried. He needed to be careful. Lily was vulnerable, and she was the sexiest, most sensual creature alive. It would be easy to forget that the closeness they were experiencing was temporary. Yet it was the closest he had ever been to a woman.
And what does that say about you, Ben?
It said he had the good sense to keep clear of close relationships. Having witnessed firsthand the war that had passed for his parents’ marriage, Ben had decided early on that he was never going to walk into a relationship he wasn’t able to walk out of.
But he wouldn’t walk away from his daughter.
BEN HATED THIS awful white box of a room. He hated hospitals, he hated relying on medical science, he hated feeling helpless, useless... Ben surged to his feet, wincing as his chair scraped noisily on the floor.
In her cot Emmy continued to sleep, although she stirred a little and so did Lily in her chair. Quietly he made his way to the door and, holding his breath, closed it carefully behind him. He turned and found Elizabeth Gray standing there watching him.
Since he had made his bone-marrow donation her attitude had thawed. There was just a thin layer of frost now when she spoke to him.
Ben didn’t blame her.
‘They’re asleep. I was just going to get some fresh air.’
‘Lily said you reminded her of a tiger in a cage.’
‘Did she? I don’t really like hospitals. Can I get you anything? Coffee?’
Ben took her rejection philosophically and was about to move away when her voice made him turn back.
‘Can I ask you something that I’ve always been curious about?’
‘Sure you can ask. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.’ Having braced himself to defend behaviour that, from any loving parent’s point of view, was indefensible her actual question took him by surprise.
‘Your parents had what most people would call an unhappy marriage.’
‘That’s putting it politely. Others would call it hell.’
‘I always wondered, why did they stay together? They weren’t religious or—?’
Ben gave a dry laugh. It was a question he had asked himself on more than one occasion. ‘Honestly, I don’t have a clue. They both threatened it over the years, but neither carried through... Maybe in some twisted way, for them at least, the marriage worked...’ he speculated with a mystified shake of his head ‘...or it could be that they were just too stubborn to admit they’d made a mistake.’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘Some people should not be together.’
‘Marriage is a leap in the dark,’ he countered cynically.
‘What about your investments? Don’t they involve the same thing?’ she teased gently.
He angled a narrow-eyed look at her face. ‘Are you trying to get in my head, Mrs Gray?’
She smiled. ‘Call me Elizabeth.’
‘Risks are easy when you’re only dealing with money, Elizabeth.’
‘You know, I think I might have that coffee, Ben.’
He sprinted for the lift, silently cursing the estate agent who’d made him late. He glanced at his watch—had he missed the doctor’s round?
It was all the estate agent’s fault. The guy had been creating problems where there were none, as far as Ben was concerned. He had zero interest in getting the best deal or calling anyone’s bluff. If the vendors wanted more money, they could have it.
In the end, he’d had to spell it out.
‘Give them a blank cheque. I don’t give a damn, so long as I have the keys for tomorrow.’
The guy had looked at him as though he was insane.
‘Blank cheque?’ he’d echoed, sounding scandalised by the suggestion.
Ben had silenced him with a look.
This morning the guy had been sitting with his commission cheque in his hot hand, telling Ben that it had been a pleasure doing business with him and apologising profusely for having one last paper for him to sign.
Walking down the long corridor that led to the specialist unit, he passed a couple he recognised and nodded before continuing on. His stab of sympathy was mingled with a feeling of relief. It was weird, but you quickly got to know when people had had bad news, simply from their body language.
Buzzed onto the ward, he did not hurry the hygiene rules. The strict measures to protect the vulnerable child from infection had become second nature to him over the past couple of weeks. Shrugging on the gown, he almost collided with the two figures standing outside Emmy’s room.
Ben felt as if someone had reached into his chest; the icy fingers tightened around his heart as the implications of what he was seeing hit him. He froze as Lily, oblivious to his presence, her head on her mother’s shoulder, continued to weep uncontrollably.
For the past couple of weeks she had kept a constant vigil at Emmy’s bedside, refusing a bed when one came up in the purpose-built block that housed parents of children who arrived at the specialist centre from all over the country. It was the best; Ben had made it his business to find out. During that time her cheerful, positive façade had stayed firmly in place. On the couple of occasions it had slipped and she’d needed to vent, he had been philosophical about taking the flak—at least he was good for something and there was precious little else he could do.
He