Chapter Five
XANDER HEADED DOWN the gravelled driveway of his hotel out onto the road.
Fields and woodlands stretched around, bright in midday sunshine.
He was heading to the house he’d rented so his son could have the kind of life he deserved, a life way better than he’d had so far, but he was burningly aware that now he was going to have to tread carefully.
I can’t allow my feelings towards Laurel to make me lash out like that again. They don’t matter. Only my son’s feelings matter.
And his son had been terrified by the anger he’d witnessed Xander unleash and the anger Laurel had hurled back at him.
That must never happen again, never!
From now on, his expression was sombre, obdurate—like it or not—and he didn’t. It choked him. He had to set aside what he felt about his son’s mother.
I can do it, because I must.
His mouth twisted. That’s what he’d told himself when he’d married Olympia. Or rather, a variation on it: I can do this because I might as well go along with what everyone expects of me, so I should just get on with it.
Olympia wanted it, her parents wanted it, his father wanted it. All dead keen on it. Thinking it ideal for both of them. Hell, that was four people out of five, so that was a majority vote, wasn’t it? So he’d gone ahead. Married her.
He pulled his thoughts away from the way his marriage had turned out.
At least there was one thing to be grateful for, and not just because Olympia had finally cut and run, finding her own alternative happy ever after, but for the timing of it.
Freeing him to focus entirely on the son he’d never known he had.
And whatever it takes to ensure his happiness, his security, his well-being, that’s what I’ll do.
He depressed the accelerator, speeding up, eager to see his son. It would mean seeing Laurel again, but she and Dan came as a package. And that was something he just had to deal with.
Without any more destructive, dangerous, damaging-to-Dan anger…
“So, is the plan for the day to go swimming? Are you still okay with it?”
Xander was looking across at Laurel in the kitchen as she fitted a pod into the coffee machine. He’d just arrived, and Laurel had seen Dan leap from the table where he’d been doing his daily reading practice with her, together with some drawing and colouring.
“Yes please!” he said eagerly, but Xander was keeping his eyes on Laurel. Was he actually asking her if she was happy to go along with it?
“Fine by me,” she managed to say, her voice equable. She got Xander’s coffee going.
“I’ve been doing reading, Dad,” Dan announced. “I’m on the next book now. Can I read to you?”
“Sure,” Xander said.
He settled himself down at the table, Dan doing likewise, picking up his reading book.
“He’s doing very well,” Laurel said encouragingly. With her worries about Dan’s London school, she had always done a good amount of home-schooling as well, especially with reading practice. Of course, if Dan did go to this new school Xander was so keen on…
It would mean accepting that the move here is permanent, not just for a holiday.
Could it be? Could she—should she—really make their life here?
She let the question hang. It was far too complicated, too challenging, for her to answer.
As the coffee machine filled Xander’s mug and she took it over to him, her eyes went to him. Against her will she felt her gaze rest on him, taking him in, sitting there, as powerfully physically real as he had once been to her seven years ago.
Having the same effect on her.
She put his coffee down, not interrupting Dan’s careful reading out loud to him, and Xander glanced up at her. For a second, a fraction of a second, their eyes met.
“Thanks,” he said, acknowledging the coffee. His attention went back to Dan.
Laurel moved away, conscious that her heart was beating just that much faster.
But there was reason enough for that. Today they had to put into practice what they had agreed to last night, to treat each other differently, without that glowering hostility constantly bristling between them.
To achieve some kind of neutrality. She must make the effort to do so consciously, conscientiously.
As Dan finished his reading and Xander his coffee, she said, making her voice carefully light, “Why not have a bit of a kick around in the garden while I clear up and get some lunch going?”
Xander hadn’t said anything about eating out, so she’d make cheese and ham toasties in the smart new sandwich maker she’d found in a cupboard in the formidably well-equipped kitchen.
Cheese on toast was one of Dan’s favourites, and it was economical and filling.
It struck her that now, with Xander bankrolling them, she no longer had to think economically. It would certainly make life easier.
But Xander’s money would only be spent on Dan, she thought fiercely. That comment Xander had made last night, that she should buy new clothes on his credit card…
A flash of resistance flared in her. Xander already thought her a thief; she would not compound that accusation by letting him think she was happy to get her sticky fingers into his bank balance.
Forcibly, she made the flash subside. They were supposed to be making an effort to subdue their hostility. Had Xander seen that flash? Following Dan, who’d dashed off eagerly into the garden, Xander turned, his eyes going to Laurel, meeting hers.
“We can do this,” he said, his voice low, his gaze intent. “We can both do it.”
She nodded. Her lungs felt tight, but she acknowledged what he was saying. “Yes,” she said, “we can.”
Because we must, for Dan.
Xander parked the car outside his hotel on the gravelled sweep.
“The spa is in the old stable block,” he said. He guided them towards it.
Dan was excited and ran ahead.
Xander turned to Laurel. “I’ve taken the liberty,” he said, “of booking us in for afternoon tea here at the hotel after our swim. Would you object?”
He was asking politely, because politeness was now his watchword towards her. She was matching it in turn. They were walking over eggshells around each other, but that was what they’d agreed to, hadn’t they? In the aftermath of that hideous meltdown yesterday.
“Would it be suitable for a child Dan’s age?” she asked, but her tone of voice was only enquiring, not combative.
“I did check, and was assured well-behaved youngsters are welcome. And Dan is very well behaved,” Xander acknowledged, because to do otherwise would be unjust. “He’ll do fine, I’m sure. They do a children’s menu, so I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.”
“I’m sure he will,” Laurel replied, her voice warming now. “The only thing is—” she paused, and Xander glanced at her “—I’m not exactly dressed for afternoon tea at a posh hotel.”
Xander’s gaze took in her chain-store skirt and top.
It was little better than what she’d worn the previous day.
Memory plucked at him. Even on her limited budget Laurel had always dressed with flair in Greece, always looking good.
Now, though nothing could dim her inherent beauty, she did nothing to pay tribute to it.
Glorious hair pulled back into a tight knot and not a scrap of make-up.
His own words to her the previous evening came back to him: You’re too beautiful not to have beautiful clothes.
Her answer came back to him as well, that she would not let him spend his money on her.
For a moment frustration bit, and a sense of caustic irony too. Her scruples hadn’t stopped her taking Olympia’s bracelet…
No, he wasn’t going to go down that bitter path again. He drew back from it. Realised she was speaking again.
“Oh well,” she was saying, “they can always take me for Dan’s nanny, I guess!”
She said it lightly, without animosity, and in the same spirit Xander forbore from pointing out that even a nanny would look better dressed than she did.
They reached the former stable-yard, now the spa entrance.
“I can see the pool!” Dan exclaimed as they went in.
Xander smiled down at him, took his hand. “Let’s get changed,” he said. “See you poolside.” He glanced at Laurel.
Did she hesitate a fraction, as if she didn’t want Dan changing with him? Maybe, but then she handed Dan his swim bag.
“Okay, see you poolside.”
It took Xander more time than he realised it would to get Dan ready to swim, his excitement rising by the minute.
But with their clothes consigned to a locker, Dan’s goggles and inflatable armbands remembered, courtesy towels collected, and Dan hopping from one foot to another throughout, plus getting himself changed as well, Xander finally guided him through to the pool.
On this quiet weekday afternoon they had the place to themselves. He cast his eyes about for Laurel.
For a second he didn’t see her. Then he did.
And he stopped dead.
She was putting her towel on one of a pair of loungers, and as Dan ran excitedly up to her, she straightened. Xander remained motionless, not taking his eyes from her. Not being able to.
She was in a one-piece, turquoise, cut high in the leg, low over her breasts, hugging her figure like a second skin, and he remembered it as if it were yesterday.
Poised to dive off the swim deck, golden hair flowing down her back, looking so, so beautiful.
Slowly he walked towards her.
“I remember that suit,” he heard himself say. “You always wore it when you wanted to do decent swimming, not just splashing around in a bikini.”
For a moment, just a moment, he thought he saw her colour change. Her cheeks flush. Then she simply said, with a half shrug, “It still fits me.”
Xander’s eyes washed over her. All the way down, all the way back up. A visible caress.
“Oh, it most certainly does that,” he said softly. “In all the right places.”
Without thinking he had reached his hand towards her, letting his forefinger run a leisurely curve along her décolletage. Lingering.