LITMIR.BIZ

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never told anyone that. Didn’t know why he’d told Maeve. He moved on and hoped she would forget he’d said it. ‘Guess I’d make sure my kid was never left alone until they wanted to be left.’

      She squeezed him again. ‘Perhaps your mum thought the people she was with were more disturbing than the idea of you being alone.’

      His mum had actually said something like that. He hadn’t believed her. Had there been a grain of truth in it after all? And Maeve had picked up on it all these years later. ‘You don’t judge her, do you? My mother?’

      Maeve shrugged on his chest. ‘Who am I to judge? I know nothing about her. I just know I’ve always admired you and she must have had a part in that. She was your mother.’

      That heavy carpenter’s rasp was back down his throat. Sawing up and down and ripping the skin off his tonsils. Or at least that’s what it felt like as his throat closed. He searched for some moisture in his mouth. ‘Even when I said I’d been in prison because of her, you were sad for me that she was dead.’

      He’d been thinking about that a lot. Couldn’t get his head around the fact that Maeve saw the part of him he hadn’t shown to many people. Except Simon. But he doubted her brother would have discussed it with his little sister.

      She snuggled harder and his arm protested and began to cramp. He told it to shut up.

      Then she said, ‘Even though you didn’t meet your father, I think you’ll be a good dad. And you certainly tried to look after your mum from a very young age. You’re probably better father material than many men who had dads.’

      He grimaced at the fact that maybe he had become a little parental with his mum, but that didn’t change the fact he hadn’t been able to save her.

      Maeve was like a dog with a bone. ‘You’ll be fine. You’re a paediatrician so at least you’re good with kids.’ She settled back. The law according to Maeve.

      ‘At least I’m that,’ he said dryly. ‘I’m good with sick kids.’ And especially the ones who were left alone and needed company.

      She went on, ‘I was too young to understand about how you grew up. You always looked tough and capable when I saw you.’

      Rayne listened to her voice, the husky tigress lilt tamed a little now, and thought about what she’d said. So he’d appeared tough and capable. He guessed he had been. By the time she’d been in her early teens he’d almost grown out of his, and his mum had begun to need a bit more care taken of her. A couple of dangerous overdoses. A problem with her supplier that had left her badly bruised. The way she’d forgotten to eat. She’d had two close shaves with the law and had told him if she ever got convicted she would die if she went to prison.

      The last years had been a downward spiral and he’d tried most things to halt it. The number of rehab centres, fresh towns, health kicks they’d tried. Things would go well for a few months and he’d get tied up at work. Miss a couple of days dropping in then she’d start to use again.

      The best she’d been had been in Santa Monica. She’d looked young for the first time in years. Had got a job as a doctor’s receptionist at one of the clinics he worked from in the poorer area, a place where kids who needed care they normally couldn’t afford could access a range of different doctors. And she’d been good at it.

      She had connected well with the people who didn’t need anyone to look down on them. He’d valued the once a week he’d donated his time there, away from the upmarket private hospital he’d worked in the rest of the time. And he’d cheered to see her making a life for herself. Fool.

      Until the day she’d worked and gone home early. It had been his day as well and he’d finished late. Locked up. The investigation had been well in progress by the time he’d found out all the drugs had been stolen. Had known immediately who it had been. He hadn’t been able to track her down anywhere until finally she’d rung him. Pleading. Promising she would never, ever, touch anything ever again, if he would say it was him. That this was her chance to go clean for life.

      He’d hoped maybe it was true and that she would stop using. Then had begun to realise the fingers had been pointing to him anyway. So he’d made a conscious decision to try a last attempt at saving her.

      He’d tried ringing Simon so he wouldn’t find out from someone else that he would probably be going to prison. Hadn’t been able to give the explanation on the phone and had had that ridiculous idea to fly out, explain and then fly back in twenty-four hours. He’d thought he should have just about that much time before it all came crashing down. Before the police came for him!

      ‘Hey,’ Maeve whispered, but she wasn’t talking to him. The belly beside him rolled and shifted and his eyes fixed on the movement, mesmerised. He glanced quickly at Maeve, who was watching him with a gentle smile on her face, lifted his hand and put his palm on the satin skin. And the creature below poked him with something bony.

      Geez. He looked back at Maeve.

      ‘Cool, isn’t it?’ she said softly. And put her hand over his. And he realised with a big shift of emotion that the three of them were together for the first time. ‘He likes you.’

      His eyes jerked to her face. ‘It’s a he?’

      She laughed. ‘I really don’t know. Just find myself calling him he. Maybe because you weren’t here.’ He winced at that.

      ‘Might be a girl.’ She shrugged. ‘I really don’t care which.’

      ‘I hope she looks like you.’

      She looked at him as if she were peering over a pair of glasses at him. ‘Why on earth would you want your son to look like me?’

      ‘Okay. A boy could be like me but it would be very sweet to have a little girl who looks like you.’ Then he spoilt it all by unexpectedly yawning.

      She laughed. ‘You need a nap more than I do. Why don’t you take your jeans off? We can talk more later. Then you can roll over and I’ll cuddle you.’

      ‘Bossy little thing.’ But suddenly he felt morbidly tired and he did what he was told, not least because his arm had gone totally to sleep now and his jeans were digging into him.

      When he climbed back onto the bed and rolled to face the door, she snuggled up to him as close as her big tummy would allow. It actually felt amazing when his child wriggled against him. Geez.

      Maeve listened to Rayne’s breathing change and she lay there, staring at his dark T-shirt plastered against his strong shoulders as he went to sleep.

      She tried to imagine Rayne as a little boy, from a time when his first memories had begun to stick. Dark, silky hair, strong little legs and arms, big, dark eyes wondering when Mummy would be home.

      It hurt her heart. She wanted to hug that little boy and tell him she’d never leave him scared again. How old had he been when his mother had begun to leave him? She had a vague recollection of hearing Simon say to her parents that Rayne’s mum hadn’t started using drugs until after something bad had happened when Rayne had gone to school.

      She wondered what had happened to Rayne’s poor mum. Something that bad? It couldn’t have been easy, bringing up a child alone with very little money.

      Her childhood had been so blessed. Always her hero brother Simon and three older sisters to look after her, as well as both well-adjusted parents, although her mum was pretty definite on social niceties.

      Her dad was a fair bit older than her mum, but he’d always been quietly there, and her mother had come from a wealthy family and always been a determined woman. She’d been spoilt by her dad, but had sometimes felt as if she wasn’t quite enough of a star for her mother. Hence the try-hard attitude she really needed to lose.

      She would be thankful for all her blessings of family and now having this gorgeous, damaged man appear just when she needed him. He hadn’t run. He’d promised to stay at least until after the birth. Had tried to

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