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She pressed a clenched hand to her mouth and thought,A bit late, as she shook her head. Her eyes above the hand were filled with tears and she wanted to die of embarrassment.
‘You have excellent taste,’ Zac observed, making no reference to her massive meltdown as he took hold of the pendant between his long fingers.
Her lowered eyes lifted. She didn’t know what reaction she had expected but this hadn’t been it.
He leaned in slightly and Rose fought the instinct to mirror his action as her nostrils twitched to the scent of the male fragrance he used...or maybe it was just him. ‘It is...’ he turned the pendant over in his hand ‘...Victorian?’
She looked at his sleek dark head shining blue black and wondered if it was as marvellously silky as it looked. ‘I don’t know, I just thought it was pretty.’ His eyes were on the stone and not her face. It gave Rose an opportunity to regain her composure and she was grateful for it.
‘The smaller black stones around the amber are, I think, jet, though I am no expert on jewellery.’
Just how to pay for it, and not this sort of jewellery, she thought, polishing her cynicism.
‘You delegate that task, do you?’ She couldn’t help herself or maybe she didn’t try. His parting gifts to exes were the thing of legend in the Adamos building.
He let go of the pendant and pulled up straight, fixing her with a dark stare that glittered with humour.
The wordsCan you see the Gorgeous Great White laughing at himself?floated through her head... He could!
He was glad to see her biting her lip and looking guilty, not devastated. The look in her eyes as she’d told her story, the simplicity of the recounting, no play for sympathy, in fact actively rejecting sympathy, had touched him at a deep level that no one had ever reached before.
‘Play nice, Rose. I was showing my sensitive side. Seriously though, I’m sorry you didn’t get birthday presents...all children should,’ he observed, keeping it light and hoping one day she would meet a man who would make up for all those lost birthdays... The thought of this man who would get to do this made him feel oddly dissatisfied.
‘Did you?’
‘Oh, yes... I still do. It doesn’t matter how often I tell them I’m too old to celebrate birthdays, they keep sending me reminders of how old I am.’
‘Of course, you’renevertoo old to celebrate your birthday. I think everyone should have their birthday as a holiday. It should be written into law.’
He reached into his pocket, remembering the forgotten discarded home-made card that had escaped the bin. He’d stuffed it in his pocket, meaning to dispose of it. He got it out now and uncreased the folds before handing it to her.
‘Oh, that’s so sweet.’ She looked up from the crayoned offering. ‘Who is...Carla?’ she asked, deciphering the lopsided name in front of the kisses.
‘A niece.’
‘How old is she?’
‘I don’t have a clue...but she can write...’ he glanced at the card ‘...so she might be, what, five or thereabouts...?’
She laughed, assuming he was joking. ‘You make fun, but it mustmeansomething if you kept it.’ He was not as heartless as he liked to make out.
He looked amused, a look, of course, which was very attractive on him. ‘I hate to disillusion you, but I just forgot to bin it with the rest.’
Her face fell. She hated that this was something he found amusing. ‘I hope you will celebrate Declan’s birthday,’ she said sternly, adding a self-conscious, ‘Mr Adamos,’ as an afterthought.
‘Make it Zac. If I didn’t give Declan a party with all the bells and whistles I think his mum and dad would haunt me,Rose.’
She glanced from his sombre face to the sleeping baby, her heart aching when she realised she would never see any of his birthday parties. In a short space of time that little baby had burrowed his way into her heart. ‘How...?’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘Sorry, you don’t want to talk about it.’
‘I haven’t talked about it. The people at the funeral talked incessantly about thetragedy, but what they really meant was “I’m glad it’s not me”.’
‘I suppose that’s a natural reaction.’
‘It’s hypocrisy and—’
She watched as he clamped his white lips tight as if the physical action alone could hold the anger in. Rose was of the opinion he would be better off letting it out.
‘It was a lorry,’ he said abruptly. ‘They were on their way from the hospital. Emma wanted to remain with the baby, but she was exhausted and parent accommodation on the SCBU was overstretched.’
