Chapter Nine
SAMMY LAY BY the pool, her eyes hidden behind the oversized sunglasses she had bought two days previously, shortly before they had collected Adele from her grandmother’s lawyer.
Everything had to be done by the book.
‘One foot out of place,’ Leo had said grittily, ‘and she’ll run screeching to her lawyers that we’re flouting the rules.’
In the past couple of days she had heard things about Gail Jamieson that had conclusively done away with any lingering doubts about what they were doing.
Leo had clearly been loath to part with the information but maybe because they were now more than just partners in a business arrangement he had felt inclined to open up.
Pillow talk.
‘Sean was a weak man,’ he had told her pensively late at night after their first successful day with Adele, the little girl tucked safely in bed hours earlier.
‘An only child, spoiled and indulged, with almost no discipline, and I tend to agree with my father that he found himself swept along on a riptide over which he had no control whatsoever. He was completely taken in by Louise and it wasn’t hard for him to fall off the bandwagon completely after his mother died.
From his communications with my father, it would appear that whilst he knew well enough that neither he nor Louise were equipped to take care of the child they had produced, neither was Gail.
There were stories of her leaving the baby unattended while she went out at night and, on one occasion, an actual admission to hospital when Adele was little more than a toddler, after her falling down some stairs—although Sean hinted that some corporal punishment had been inflicted by the grandmother. ’
‘Why on earth didn’t he take Adele and leave?’
‘Because,’ Leo had told her with a wry grimace, ‘he was a drug addict. His best intentions were never going to come to anything. Nor could we have undertaken a snatch and grab rescue mission. No, the only way my father felt he could help was to send money over to make Adele’s life more comfortable and to sponsor rehabs that never seemed to come to anything. ’
‘If Gail has been responsible for physical abuse, then surely that would make it easy for you to...’
‘Hearsay,’ he had told her bluntly. ‘To outside eyes, she is the grandmother who rose to the occasion when her daughter couldn’t look after her own child.’
Now, looking at Adele in her swimming costume at the side of the pool, Sammy could make sense of the child’s personality.
Since they had arrived at the villa, which was an exquisite masterpiece of modernism with spectacular views down to the Surfers Paradise Coast, Adele had barely spoken to Leo at all.
She was a cautious, watchful five-year-old, without any of the spontaneity she should have had at her age.
There was no running around, no bursts of laughter, no mess made, no noisy intrusions into adult conversations.
Her clothes were neatly worn and never seemed to get dirty. She was the most background child Sammy had ever encountered and her heart went out to her.
And it went out to Leo because she could tell that he was trying hard.
Unfortunately, whilst his questions were politely answered, there was minimal eye contact made and absolutely only essential interaction.
Now, he was doing lengths, his lean, well toned bronzed body cutting a swathe through the crystal-clear water while Adele stared out into the distance as she clutched the side of the pool.
Sammy could predict the way the rest of the day would go because she was sure that it would follow the pattern of the other days they had had in the villa.
They would enjoy the sun and the swimming pool and then venture down to the town for something to eat and take in another of the local sights.
Yesterday had been a stroll on the beach, where they had watched surfers ride the soaring waves.
The day before they had paid a visit to the animal park, where Adele had been encouraged to pat a koala, which she had seemed to enjoy.
Today they would do something else, some other fun activity, which would end up leaving Leo restless and frustrated because he would, yet again, fail to break through the wall of Adele’s politeness.
She smiled as Adele caught her eye and then levered herself up and began walking over. She was wearing a plain black swimsuit and had not removed her bright pink plastic beach shoes, which sloshed as she approached.
‘I thought you were going to be a little fishy again—’ Sammy grinned ‘—and show me how you could do those flips underwater.’
Adele smiled and dropped her eyes. ‘Leo’s in the pool,’ she said in a whisper and Sammy reached out and held the child’s hands in hers.
‘You can’t let him be the only fish,’ she said with a smile. ‘Besides, you make a much prettier fish than Leo. Maybe today we could get you a nice fishy swimsuit. Would you like that? Something nice and colourful? And maybe an inflatable for the pool, as well?’
‘Nana might get angry.’ Adele chewed her lip anxiously. ‘She says it’s important not to ask for things. I can only have things if I don’t ask for them.’
Sammy’s ears pricked up because Adele rarely mentioned her grandmother. ‘What if you do ask?’ she questioned gently. ‘Does your grandmother get cross?’
Adele shrugged and remained silent.
‘You know,’ Sammy said quietly, ‘that you have a lovely grandpa over in England who really wants to meet you.’
Adele slid a sideways look at Sammy. ‘Nana says that no one wants me but her.’
‘Now I know that’s not true.’ She was still smiling, her voice soft and encouraging, but her heart clenched at the behind-the-scenes picture being painted. ‘You have a very, very loving grandpa who would burst into tears if he heard you say that.’
Adele’s eyes brightened. ‘Old people don’t cry!’ she giggled.
‘Just wait till you meet your uncle Leo’s dad,’ Sammy confided. ‘He’s a big softie. But maybe you should be cautious,’ she mused thoughtfully. ‘He’s famous for hugging a lot. He might just get hold of you and never let you go. You’d be wrapped up in a big bear hug for the rest of your life!’
‘How would I eat?’ Adele giggled again. It was an unusual sound.
‘Your uncle Leo would have to sneak you titbits.’
‘How would I go to the bathroom?’
‘You’d be allowed to go to the bathroom but you’d have to follow that trail of bread back to his arms.’
‘Like Hansel and Gretel.’
‘Just like Hansel and Gretel.’
‘Running away from the bad witch.’
‘Who is the bad witch?’
Adele shrugged and her face grew serious, and Sammy knew when to leave things alone.
Later, she repeated the conversation to Leo.
It was a little after eight in the evening and Adele was asleep.
She never kicked up about going to bed. Indeed, she had to be persuaded on night one to stay up beyond six and as soon as Leo had looked at his watch, at a little after seven, she had jumped to her feet, her teddy clutched to her chest, ready to head upstairs.
She never asked for a bedtime story. She never asked for anything.
‘It’s almost as though she’s too scared of the response she might get.’
‘Does that surprise you?’ Leo looked at her.
The sun had worked magic on her skin, turning her flawless, milky whiteness a toasted golden colour.
He couldn’t get enough of her. Hours were spent in anticipation of bedding her as soon as they were together.
He guiltily wondered whether he was devoting the amount of attention he should have to his little charge when his thoughts always seemed to be wrapped up in images of Sammy and her hot, willing body under his, when his eyes seemed to follow her every small movement.
Right now, with the meal finished, he took his time as he watched her over the rim of his wine glass.
She wasn’t wearing a bra.
He’d told her that just the thought of being able to reach under her top and feel her glorious breasts was enough to make him harden and she had teasingly threatened to dispense with the bra, a threat he had been extremely keen to take her up on.
‘You’re looking at me.’ Sammy blushed. Her nipples tightened into hard pebbles and she felt that wonderful, familiar dampness between her legs.
She had never thought that her body could respond to anyone the way it responded to Leo.
His eyes on her made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, made her skin prickle as though someone had run a feather over it.
The sound of his voice, deep and dark and velvety, could trigger a series of graphic images in her head that made her pulses quicken and her heart beat faster.
She blinked as her sluggish brain began to make all sorts of connections that had been there all along, waiting to be unearthed.
She’d agreed to a phoney relationship and then had agreed to a sexual one because she had been unable to deny her body the thing it seemed to crave.
She’d been swept along on a rosy wave of thinking that she was having fun and not doing anything that any girl her age wouldn’t have done. Namely, falling into bed with a hot guy she found irresistible. She was only acting her age!
Had she been especially vulnerable because Leo had been an adolescent crush? Had that added to the thrill? She hadn’t stopped to question it.
Of course, it wasn’t going to last and that was fine.
They were as different as chalk and cheese and if fate hadn’t thrown them together then their paths would never have crossed in the way that they had.
They would have remained two people who met now and again and exchanged a bit of this and that conversation.