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‘I hope Declan doesn’t wake now.’ She yawned.
He didn’t, not until the morning and by then Zac had gone.
That morning set the pattern for the next ten days. Zac spent the nights with her but was gone by the time she woke. During the day Rose cared for Declan—at least it had begun that way but for the past few days Zac had broken into his working day and appeared at unexpected moments to spend a few minutes, an hour or even two with them. She admired the effort that he was making to bond with the baby. Yesterday Declan had slept the entire time he’d been with them and she had ruefully apologised, which had made him look at her... Yes, she decided, going over the moment in her head, it had been anoddlook.
Maybe he’d read her thoughts?
The idea worried her, as her thoughts were embarrassingly foolish, becausethiswasn’t what it felt like to be part of a family, because families were for ever, and this was...for how long?
With an effort she pushed away the question that would have spoilt the perfect moment if she’d allowed it space in her head.
All the effort in the world couldn’t mask the fact she was a mass of quivering anticipation when he came to her each night. She didn’t even try. What was the point? As much as she loved her days, she lived for her nights and the trembling anticipation was part of what she lived for!
And what would it feel like when the inevitable moment arrived and Zac didn’t come to her bed? Sometimes she thought it might be easier if he lost interest now. Later would involve more devastation...whereas now...
Now it would hurt like hell!
Sometimes there was no upside to a situation that you walked into with your eyes wide open...everything wide open... Well, she wouldn’t be the first woman to lose her heart to Zac Adamos, but she felt a wistful envy for the woman who was the last.
Today there had been no appearance of the tall figure who was fast becoming her drug of choice. It was early evening and Rose was taking advantage of Camille’s presence in the nursery to explore, when he did appear. She had headed for the beach, the sand still warm on her bare feet as she wandered along the shoreline, swinging her shoes in her hand as she waded out to meet a wave and then ran back, allowing it to chase her.
‘Having fun?’
More than the top of her cut-offs got wet when she heard his voice. Studying him, she forgot to watch for a wave and it hit the backs of her legs, drenching her up to the waist.
Other than the tie that was hanging loose around his neck, he looked as though he had just stepped out of a board meeting—maybe he had. The only place they were on an equal footing was in bed. Elsewhere he was very much the boss.
‘Do you ever take a holiday?’ she wondered out loud.
His grin suddenly flashed and he looked a lot less boardroom and a lot more bedroom. ‘If I was on holiday I’d be giving you that swimming lesson,’ he remarked, taking off his jacket and slinging it one-handed over a shoulder.
‘I told you, I really don’t want a swimming lesson.’
‘You think I’m not qualified? You don’t trust me?’
Rose refused to react to the challenge in his eyes. He was treating this as a joke, which to her it wasn’t.
‘I know you are a very good teacher, and yes...Idotrust you.’ The realisation came with a rush of surprise.
‘So are you scared?’
A lie would have worked but the truth threw him. ‘I am.’
He frowned and looked as discomposed as she had ever seen him. ‘You’d be perfectly safe with me,’ he protested.
‘It’s not aboutyou.’ Rose was starting to get angry. He just didn’t seem to get it—so she told him. ‘When I was nine my dad, who thoughthewas a great teacher, threw me in a river. He was a fan of sink or swim. I sank. I didn’t just choke a bit, I nearly drowned. The doctors said that the cold helped me—my body shut down so I didn’t have brain damage despite being deprived of oxygen for so long—so if it’s OK with you, I’ll paddle.’
‘I had no idea.’ That she had almost died because of the actions of a reckless man whose job it was to care for her winded him like a blow to the solar plexus.
He thought about a world without Rose Hill in it and without warning felt an emptiness rise up in him so strong that for several moments he just saw blackness.
Zac looked so shocked that she immediately felt guilty for wheeling out the old story. It was something she’d never done before, and she really wished she hadn’t now. She hated sounding like a victim. She’d heard her dad do it so often. He’d never accepted responsibility in his life.
‘My dad never accepted that I was in serious danger, because I suppose that would have made him responsible and that is not a role my dad feels happy playing.’ Caught out in any wrongdoing, he always became the victim.
Zac’s frown deepened. It would seem Rose had no illusions about her father, she knew what he was and he knew she was nothing like him, information he would have relayed to Marco had the man been able to say anything beyond a strained,‘Sorry. Later. Kate is in labour.’
‘Dad embroidered the story over the years, making it a big joke—I jumped in, I played the drama queen, and so on. So you hit a nerve. Can we talk about something else?’ she asked, dropping her gaze. The pity she imagined she saw in his eyes made her feel uncomfortable. ‘Did you pick up your messages? You had one from your father...’ She stopped dead, realising that her awkward change of subject had left her sounding like an eavesdropper—which she was. ‘The door to your study was open and the answer machine kicked in. Sorry, I shouldn’t have listened, but I did.’
