Page 33 of Leave Me Breathless


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‘He’s a good influence,’ she hisses. ‘A provider.’

A provider? Give me a break. I earn and I earn good, but I don’t wipe my arse on fifty-pound notes, and that makes me a bad influence. Oh, and the cabin. Apparently that’s a good enough reason to try to banish me from my daughter’s life, too. ‘I’ve always provided for her, Darcy, and not just money.’

‘Casper is a stable man in her life.’

‘He’s a toffee-nosed prick, that’s what he is.’ The man is an uptight arsehole. How perfect they pretend to be, a happy little family. Casper taking over the horse-racing world and earning a mint, Darcy playing the doting, spoiled wife, and my daughter shipped off to boarding school to learn how to be a proper little lady while they live the high life. I am a thorn in their side. A defect in their flawless world. ‘And to be clear, Alex is my priority. She has been since I found out you’d lied to me about whose daughter she was.’

I’ll never forget that day – the day I won the right to a paternity test. Darcy’s face said it all. I’d well and truly fucked up her plans to live happily ever after with my daughter and Casper Rochester. Alex had just turned one. Casper and Darcy had been married for over a year. He was in. No way out without losing face. I lost the first year of my daughter’s life because of that scheming bitch, so forgive me for feeling bitter.

I hear Darcy breathe out her irritation. ‘Well, if she’s your priority, then you should be happy to bring her home so she can see her uncle and cousin. I don’t see what the problem is.’

‘The problem is, I haven’t seen her for two months because she’s been holed up in that school you ship her off to. This is my time, Darcy. It’s precious.’

She sighs, and for a moment I think I might be getting through to her reasonable side. But then, this is Darcy Hampton. She doesn’t have a reasonable side. ‘I’m afraid I must insist.’

The woman exhausts me. I slump where I stand, my back hitting the wall behind me, and I look up to see Alex standing at the door with a basket of coal in her arms. Her face is pensive, and I hate that she’s just listened to me ranting down the phone at her mother. I pull my mobile down from my ear and push it into my chest. ‘Grandmother and Grandpa are hosting a dinner tomorrow evening for your uncle.’

‘Will my cousin be there?’ she asks quietly. Nervously. Fucking hell, she wants to go. I’ve heard her talk about her cousin often. She’s great fun, apparently. Who am I to stop her having fun without me? So pushing aside my need to keep her all to myself, I nod and give her a small smile to ease her guilt. And she smiles right back. I lift my phone to my ear. ‘I’ll drop her off tomorrow.’ It irks me when Darcy responds with a satisfied sniff. She thinks she’s won. Let her think it. This isn’t about winning. It’s about Alex.

I hang up and nod at the coal in her arms. ‘Your mother would have a hernia if she saw the state of you.’

Looking down her front to the dollops of paint and the smears of black from the coal, Alex shrugs before returning her eyes to me. ‘Do you really hate each other that much?’ she asks, and I fold with guilt.

‘I don’t hate your mother.’ Lying to your daughter, Ryan. Shame on you. ‘I love her because she gave me you.’ Eventually. After I’d fought tooth and nail in court to prove Alex was mine. I knew what it was like to grow up without a father around. Mine left Mum pregnant and without a penny. I’m the man I am today because of my mother, and making her proud has always been so important to me. Being a good dad would make her proud. I swallow and look to the heavens, mentally hearing her telling me to keep my cool. Easier said than done, Mum.

I push my back off the wall and head for the fridge. I need a beer. Standard after dealing with Darcy.

‘Can I have one?’ Alex asks.

‘No.’ Cracking off the cap, I swig and make my way to Alex. ‘How about we go check out the bridge?’

‘Sure.’ She steps outside and drops the basket of coal on the veranda, then slides her arm around my waist and hugs into my side as we make our way down the steps. ‘Love ya, Dad.’

I smile and swing my arm over her shoulder. ‘Love you, too, stinky Cabbage.’

She giggles and nudges me, and my smile widens.

‘What are you gonna do?’ Alex asks when we pull up the drive to the estate the next evening. I spot a gleaming Rolls-Royce under the canopied driveway and roll my eyes when the driver appears, polishing down the side of the passenger door.

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