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A Special Kind of Family. Marion Lennox
Читать онлайн.Название A Special Kind of Family
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Автор произведения Marion Lennox
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
‘Yes,’ Nathan said, but his hand crept into Dom’s and held it.
The man noticed. His face darkened with anger. ‘Why, you little…’
‘Nathan’s had flu,’ Dom said quickly as the man’s hand raised. ‘He’s had almost a week off school.’
It was enough to deflect Michael. His hand paused.
‘My kid’s been sick? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I left a message at your boarding house.’
‘I haven’t been there for weeks.’ Out on the street whoever was driving the van was clearly getting impatient. There was a long, loud blast of the horn.
‘I hope the surf’s great,’ Dom said neutrally, and Michael cast him an uncertain look—deciding, Erin thought, whether to stoke his anger or not. And finally, blessedly, deciding not.
‘Yeah, it will be,’ he said at last. ‘I gotta go. But, Nathe, remember I gave you the egg. I do what I can. Love ya, mate.’ And he wheeled away and half ran back to the van. Leaving Nathan clutching Dominic’s hand.
This was none of her business. She should go back into her sitting cum bedroom. But she was too interested to retreat.
Dom and Nathan stayed with their backs to her, watching the van disappear. Nathan didn’t release Dominic’s hand. When finally the sound of the van retreated to silence he glanced up at Dom and his small face was a mess of tears. ‘The Easter Bunny won’t come now.’
‘Yeah, he will,’ Dom said, placid in the face of the little boy’s distress. ‘You know the rules. If the Easter Bunny sees you eating an egg before Sunday he knows he doesn’t need to deliver eggs. But lots of people give eggs before Sunday. Three of my patients left me eggs and they’re sitting on my desk right now. I just have to be very good and not eat them.’
‘So I can’t eat Dad’s egg?’
‘Not until Sunday. Not if you want the bunny to come,’ Dom said, with all the gravity in the world.
He was great, Erin thought.
He was…gorgeous?
Um…what? Where had that come from? Gorgeous? Hardly appropriate.
Or, actually, incredibly appropriate. The man’s kindness made her blink back tears. Sexy came in all forms. Sexy came in the guise of a guy holding a little boy by the hand and discussing the Easter Bunny with the same gravity he might accord World Peace.
‘I guess,’ Nathan was saying, still doubtful.
‘It’s true. All you need do is put it with the others that we’ll eat after Easter.’
‘Okay,’ Nathan said, his face finally clearing as he decided to believe. Then he added, ‘I’m glad he’s gone. Will he come back soon?’
‘I don’t know, Nathe,’ Dom admitted, and the little boy’s face clouded.
‘He might,’ he whispered. But then the clouds disappeared again. ‘But he said he was going surfing for Easter and that’s days and days. He won’t come back till after the Easter bunny’s been. I’ll tell Martin.’
And he handed his egg to Dom, edged past the bundle of canine contentment on the floor and scooted off to find his…brother?
She didn’t think so. A few assumptions were being stood on their heads this morning.
Dom was standing in the hallway holding the egg. It really was ridiculously large.
Marilyn snoozed at his feet, with her three puppies. Erin could hear Nathan talking to Martin back in the kitchen.
How many responsibilities did this man have?
‘The boys are your…foster-kids?’ she ventured, and he nodded. He was watching her, an expression on his face like he couldn’t figure her out.
‘What?’ she said.
He shook his head as if clearing fog. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Um…yeah, they’re my foster-kids.’
‘But you don’t have a wife.’
‘You don’t need a wife to foster kids.’
‘I thought…’
‘If I wanted to adopt a cute baby with no strings attached then, yeah, I’d need to be married. I’d need references practically from the Pope himself. But I take kids when there’s a problem—a reason they need closer supervision than even foster-parents can give. If I’m willing to take a kid like Martin, whose mother’s disappeared but who might surface at any minute, in any state, or Nathan, whose dad is…well, like you saw him, then there’s not so much competition that you’d notice. References from the Pope might be waived.’
‘But you’re a doctor. Part time?’ she ventured.
‘In this town? Full time and part time as well.’ Then, as her confusion became obvious, he added, ‘It’s manageable. I have a great housekeeper and the boys come with me a lot. They come here traumatised, caught up in their own dysfunctional worlds. With me they see lots of other worlds, many of them just as dysfunctional, but I give them a solid base. I give them rules and I give them a hug when they need one.’
He broke off as the doorbell pealed again. Nathan’s head emerged from the kitchen, looking fearful.
‘It’s okay, Nathe,’ he said. ‘Hop it. I’ll deal with it.’
Nathan disappeared. Dom tugged the door wide.
It was Charles. Six feet two, blond and tanned, wearing cream chinos, a quality linen shirt with top buttons casually unfastened, and soft leather boat shoes. He really was absurdly handsome, Erin thought. Behind him, in the driveway, was his Porsche. Sleek and handsome as he was.
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