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the thought of her father's second marriage.
Except, because of the little time she had spent talking to her, Darcy didn't
think she was going to hate Margaret Fraser...
'He was a child still,' Darcy excused Logan's behaviour.
Margaret shook her head in disagreement. 'Adulthood, unfortunately, hasn't
changed our relationship. As far as Logan is concerned, I let him down
when he needed his mother the most.' She stared Darcy right in the eye.
'Which is precisely why I won't come between you and your father.'
Darcy had already realised that. But she wasn't the child Logan had been at
his mother's remarriage; she was twenty-five years old, far too old to have
any say in her father's life any more. Besides, now that her initial shock at
the idea had dissipated, maturity meant she simply couldn't be that selfish.
'Daniel told me that, if the two of us ever met in the right circumstances, I
would like you,' Margaret said hesitantly. 'He was right.'
Darcy drew in a shaky breath. 'He told me the same thing about you,' she
admitted gruffly. 'And, again, he was right. When you next speak to him,
would you please tell him—?'
'Why don't you tell him yourself?' Margaret suggested warmly. 'After he
telephoned me yesterday I— It was very difficult when Logan called for me
earlier. You see—your father is at my apartment, Darcy,' she admitted
awkwardly. 'I couldn't bear it when I knew how deeply upset he was, and so
I—'
'It's all right, Margaret,' Darcy cut in happily. And it was—she was just
relieved to know where her father was. 'Does he know the two of us are
meeting this afternoon?'
'I didn't tell him,' Margaret confirmed. 'He would probably have insisted on
coming with me if I had, and— Can you imagine Logan's reaction to that?'
she said knowingly.
After witnessing the way he behaved towards his mother, and hearing his
anger directed towards her father—yes, she could imagine only too well!
'Do you think my father is likely to suffer a heart attack if I arrive back with
you now?' she prompted lightly.
'Probably.' Margaret laughed softly. 'But he'll quickly get over that when—'
She broke off.
'When...?' Darcy prompted.
Margaret gave a small smile. 'I was being presumptuous, jumping two steps
ahead.'
'Because you believed I would give my blessing on your marriage to my
father?' Darcy easily guessed. 'That isn't being presumptuous, Margaret; I
should never have objected in the first place. Even if you were absolutely
awful—which you aren't,' she added hastily.
'I wish you could convince Logan of that,' Margaret told her almost
wistfully.
Logan!
It wasn't just a possibility now that he might be her stepbrother—it was a
fact!
How on earth was he going to react to knowing that...?
CHAPTER NINE
LOGAN had no idea what he was doing standing outside the entrance of Chef
Simon at eleven-thirty in the morning!
When he'd left his mother and Darcy at the hotel yesterday he had been
absolutely furious at what he deemed to be their dismissal of him, had had
no intention of talking to either of them again in the near future. But as the
hours had passed, and he hadn't heard a word from either of them, that anger
had changed to a burning curiosity.
Had the two women ended up hating each other, or had they actually come
to some sort of truce? He could perfectly well understand if Darcy disliked
his mother, but he would find it most unlikely that his mother could have
disliked Darcy; apart from the fact she had kicked him in the shin, and
threatened to throw wine over him, she was far too nice for anyone to
actually dislike!
Apart from the fact—!
Logan stopped that thought. Knowing Darcy had certainly never been dull.
But if the two women hadn't ended up hating each other, they must have
reached some sort of agreement over the situation. And Logan wanted to
know exactly what that agreement was.
But he wasn't curious enough to put himself through another meeting with
his mother. So he had come to the restaurant at a time when he knew it
wasn't actually open, but Darcy would be busy in the kitchen preparing for
the lunch-time trade.
He could see someone moving about inside the closed restaurant now,
although, with the room still unlit, he couldn't actually see who it was.
Oh, well, faint heart, and all that—
No, that wasn't right, he thought darkly. He wasn't here to win Darcy; he just
wanted to know what was going on.
His initial knock on the door heralded no response, and so he knocked
louder the second time. This time there was the sound of movement inside,
the key turning in the lock seconds later, the bolt shifted back, before the
door slowly opened.
'I'm sorry, but we don't open until— You!' Daniel Simon's polite smile
