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Bound By A Baby. Maureen Child
Читать онлайн.Название Bound By A Baby
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474081313
Автор произведения Maureen Child
Серия Mills & Boon By Request
Издательство HarperCollins
Her gaze turned on the baby laying on a blanket spread over the grass of Simon’s backyard. She didn’t know if she could go back home. Her small house would now be crowded with memories of a baby that had brightened it so briefly. She would hear Nathan’s cries in the night, find his toys tucked under the couch. She would wonder, always, how he was, what he was doing.
Just as she would wonder about Simon.
The bastard.
How dare he make her care for him and then become just…a man? How could he have experienced what they had shared and then turn his back on it all so mechanically? How could he simply flip a mental switch and shut off his emotions as easily as turning off a lightbulb?
Or maybe she was reading too much into him. Giving him too much credit. Maybe he didn’t have any emotions. Maybe that suit that so defined him had stunted any natural human feelings. Hadn’t she warned herself the very first day she had met him that he was too much like her father? Too caught up in the world of corporate finances for her to be interested in him?
She should have listened to herself.
Then she remembered the look on his face as he had stared down at Nathan, knowing the baby was his son. His features had been easy enough to read. The man was capable of love. He simply wasn’t interested in it.
At least, not with her.
“Yoo-hoo?”
“Huh? What?” Tula shook her head and said, “Sorry, sorry. Wasn’t listening.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Anna said wryly. “You’re not ready to come home yet, are you?”
“I can’t. The baby and—”
“No.” Anna’s voice was soft and filled with understanding sympathy. “I mean, you’re not ready to walk away from Simon yet, are you?”
Tula’s shoulders slumped in resignation, though her friend couldn’t see it. “No, guess I’m not. That makes me some kind of grand idiot, doesn’t it?” Then, without waiting for her friend’s response, she answered her own question. “Of course it does. Why would I think I could have feelings for a man so much like my father? Why didn’t I stop myself?”
“Because sometimes you just can’t, honey.” Anna laughed. “Look at me! I took that mural job Sam offered me because I needed the money. I even told him to his face that I couldn’t stand him! Now look where I am…married and pregnant. Sometimes, the heart just wants what it wants and you can’t do anything to change it.”
“Well, that’s not fair at all.”
“And so little is,” Anna commiserated. “Now, back to my original question with this phone call…do you still want me to come to the city this weekend? Do the mural on Nathan’s wall?”
Tula thought about that. Knew Simon would probably hate it—he of the beige-with-cream-trim designing skills. Then Tula looked at the baby, waving his little arms at the naked tree branches high overhead. And she knew that if she couldn’t be with him, then at least she could leave behind a physical reminder of her presence. One that both Nathan and Simon would see every day.
“Yeah, I do,” Tula told her friend. “Nathan’s room needs some brightening up.”
“Great! I’ve already got some fabulous ideas.”
“I trust you,” Tula said, then added, “I’ve only got one request.”
“What’s that?”
“Paint in the Lonely Bunny somewhere, will you?” She reached out and smoothed her fingertips along Nathan’s cheek. “That way it will almost be like I’m still here, watching over him. Even after I’m gone.”
“Oh, sweetie…”
She heard the sympathy in her friend’s voice and steeled herself against it. Tula didn’t want pity. In fact, she wasn’t sure what exactly she did want. Beyond Simon, of course, and that was never going to happen.
It would have been easier to seduce Tula if they hadn’t already been to bed only to have the fight that had left both of them furious.
But Simon was nothing if not determined.
He dismissed Mick’s warnings that seemed to repeat over and over again in his mind. After all, Mick was married. He and Katie had been together since college. They fit together so well, it was hard to believe they hadn’t started out life joined at the hip. So how could his best friend understand the tension, the stubborn refusal to back down once a position was taken? How could he know anything about the sexual heat that flared during an argument?
How could he ever understand the enmity Simon felt for the Hawthorne family?
Simon knew exactly what he was doing—as he always did. And the fact that Mick disagreed wasn’t going to stop him.
This plan of his was going to kill two birds with one impressive stone, he told himself. Not only would he be able to indulge himself with Tula—something he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of—but he’d also have the revenge on her father that he had been dreaming of for three years. It would absolutely fry that old man when he found out that his daughter had been in Simon’s bed.
But first things first. Before his plan could get into motion, Simon had to start making arrangements for when he had custody of Nathan. He wouldn’t have Tula to care for the baby while he was at work, so he would need someone responsible for the job.
He didn’t let himself think about the fact that when that day came, Tula would be out of their lives.
An hour later, he was home early again and didn’t even stop to admit that since Tula had come into his life, he’d found less and less reason for hanging around the company. Instead, he seemed to be drawn to this old house and the woman inside it.
Simon found Tula in the backyard, watching Nathan squirm on a blanket beneath the winter sun. She turned to look at him and he could actually see her freeze up. A part of him regretted being the cause of that. He was too accustomed to her easy smile and ready laugh. Seeing her so wary, so cold, gave him a pause that none of Mick’s not so subtle warnings had managed to do.
But he reminded himself that she was a Hawthorne and had never bothered to mention it. How much did he owe her anyway? Besides, he had a plan now and once Simon picked a direction, he didn’t deviate. That would indicate that he doubted himself and he never did that.
Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he walked down the flagstone steps that led to the landscaped yard. Each step was slow, deliberately careless, letting her know that though she might be angry, he was just fine.
Liar.
His brain shouted out that single word and he recognized the truth in it. But damned if he’d let her know.
“Isn’t it a little cold out here for him?” Simon asked, nodding at the boy who was wearing a shoulder-to-toes zip-up blanket sleeper.
“Fresh air’s good for him,” she said stiffly. She countered, “You’re home early.”
He grinned, pleased that she’d noticed. “I am. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh, can’t wait,” she said, sarcasm coloring her tone. “Our last conversation went so well.”
Good, he told himself. She was still bothered. He liked knowing that what they’d shared had hit her as hard as it had him. And more, he wanted to share it all again. A lot.
He took