Page 29 of The Devil’s Lair

“Sounds like a fun afternoon.”

I put a finger to my lips, then whisper, “For the first fifteen minutes. After that, it’s a bit tedious.”

“Well, if you need a break, you know where I am.”

“You’ll be sorry you said that.”

“I don’t think so.” He glances over at Isla, and his features soften. “She’s just what this place needs.” He turns back to me. “You both are.”

“We won’t overstay our welcome. I promise.”

“You can stay as long as you like. My father even said so earlier.”

“He did?” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “I’m nervous about meeting your family.”

“I’m sure you are. Try not to worry. They’re just people. Well, apart from Xan, although he tries to pretend he’s human.” His eyes dance with mirth. “We love him anyway. Now, how about we eat? I’m starving.”

He pulls off the chef’s hat and drops to his knees to place it on Isla’s head. It falls straight over her face, and she giggles. My chest squeezes tight. I will never tire of that sound. When it was just the two of us, Isla would often giggle, but the second Marcus came home, she’d withdraw, making herself as small as possible. I think she learned that from me, and I hate that she did. No woman should ever have to make herself small to fit into a man’s world. Granted, when survival is the only option, you’ll shrink yourself to nothing if it keeps you breathing.

During dinner, Tobias chats away to Isla, seemingly not needing a verbal response to carry on a conversation with a four-year-old and understand her needs. She appears to have completely forgotten her earlier distress. It’s made what Tobias did by putting Isla’s bed in the same room as mine even more touching.

After we’ve eaten, I insist on tidying up the dinner things. It’s nice to feel useful, although it’s not exactly a difficult task. While I do that, Tobias gets on the floor with Isla and starts playing a game with her. It takes me twice as long to pile our plates and cups and glasses onto the trolley because I keep stopping to watch them. When I was a kid, I used to dream of having a family, and this, right here, was what the innocent child in me dreamed of.

Whoever finally wins Tobias De Vil’s heart is going to land an absolute gem.

“Okay, Isla, time for bed.”

She pouts, only for a second until Tobias holds out his fist and she bumps hers against his, then skips into the bedroom. I press a hand to my chest. My heart. I don’t think I can take anymore of this.

Tobias unfolds his large frame and gets to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it. Like I said earlier, if you need anything, just call.”

“I will.”

He pushes the trolley to the door, and I follow. There’s an awkward moment, as though neither of us is sure what to do next. Then he flashes a goofy grin, and the moment passes. “Night, Rebecca. Sleep well. Breakfast at eight? I’ll knock for you.”

“Sounds good.” As he walks away, I call out to him. “Thank you, Tobias. For dinner, the way you are with Isla, for opening up your home to us, and for, well, everything.”

“I’m ready for my halo any day now.” He winks and pushes the trolley into the hallway.

But even after I’ve closed the door, the unfamiliar yet oddly warm feeling in my chest stays. And when I wake up the next morning, it’s still there.

At eight o’clock the next morning, Tobias comes to get us, as promised, and we head down to what he tells me is his father’s suite. It’s odd to think that this house is so huge, everyone has what sounds like an apartment of their own. It’s difficult to wrap my head around. I went from my mother’s tiny two-bedroomed terrace house in East London to Marcus’s impressive four-bedroomed suburban home, thinking that was huge. Oakleigh, however, is an entirely different prospect.

It’s hard to come to terms with just how quickly everything has changed. I’ve gone from being an abused housewife to a widow and potential criminal, and now, here I am, surrounded by the kind of luxury I’ve only ever seen on TV. And it’s all thanks to Tobias’s generosity and altruism.

I still can’t fully believe he’s doing this only out of the goodness of his heart, though, and until I do, I’ll be on my guard. As nice as he seems, Marcus taught me that men are chameleons. You never know what agenda truly lurks beneath the surface. Peel back the layers and you could unearth a monster. I know I did.

My knees knock and my palms are sweaty, and if my heart keeps on beating this fast, I’m on my way to a heart attack.

“Breathe.” Tobias sends me a comforting smile.

“Am I that transparent?”

“Like glass.” He angles his head to one side, studying me. “Give yourself a break. It’s natural to be nervous meeting strangers. Your life has changed a lot in a short space of time. Remember, you’re tougher than you think.”

I wish that were true. I don’t feel tough. I feel like I want to find a dark corner, curl up into a ball, and sleep for a month.

Many pairs of eyes turn to greet me as we enter a sprawling living room with seating scattered about. There’s a real fire burning in the grate, and an overstuffed bookcase in one corner. A wall of picture windows lets light in, although as it’s mid-winter, it’s still pretty dark outside. I hold tightly to Isla’s hand. My daughter buries her face in my skirt and wraps her free arm around my thighs.