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She lifted her chin up and her eyes looked very bright and very green at that moment. But her proud look masked a feeling of fear. ‘Are you trying to intimidate me, Cormack?’
Did he sense that she was close to breakdown? Was that why his voice softened as he shook his head? ‘No, I’m not. What good could come of that? I intend to be totally up front with you, Triss. No games. No secrets. I shall tell you exactly what I want when it comes to Simon.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘It’ll make things far more difficult for everyone concerned if you do—yourself included.’
She shook her head helplessly. ‘I just don’t know how we’re going to resolve this.’
He shrugged, and his voice became tinged with bitterness as he said, ‘Then perhaps, for the first time in our relationship, we might try a little compromise. Just because our love affair is finished it doesn’t mean we have to ruin Simon’s life into the bargain, does it?’
His words made her feel like crying. Or rather, one word in particular did. ‘Finished’. Their love affair was ‘finished’.
This was all most peculiar. She was the one who was supposed to be feeling a sense of triumph right now—with Cormack the distressed and injured party. So why the role-reversal? And why did she feel so empty all of a sudden?
Had she been holding onto some vague little hope in her heart that the sight of Simon might make Cormack want to try and rekindle their romance?
Well, she could kiss that hope goodbye.
For, no matter how well he adapted to being a father, she must never lose sight of the fact that she no longer had any place in Cormack’s life except as the mother of his child.
CHAPTER SIX
CORMACK shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his trousers as he subjected Triss to a moody blue stare.
‘I’m going now,’ he told her.
Hope and disappointment warred inside her as she wiped a trace of raspberry juice from one corner of Simon’s delectable rosebud mouth. ‘Going?’ she squeaked loudly.
His mouth twisted into a parody of a smile. ‘Don’t get carried away with excitement, sweetheart,’ he drawled. He reached out his hand to touch the top of Simon’s dark head lingeringly, and there was something almost wistful about the gesture which tugged relentlessly at Triss’s heartstrings.
For the first time she got an inkling of just how much she had wounded him by denying him his child. Uncomfortably, she opened her mouth to tell him so. ‘Cormack—’
‘I’m going into London to sort out a few things,’ he interrupted brutally. ‘Like bringing my clothes down here, and rescheduling a couple of meetings I had lined up during the week.’
‘Oh, please don’t let me stand in the way of your meetings,’ said Triss sarcastically as the horrible way he had spoken to her dissolved some of her feelings of guilt.
‘I won’t,’ he returned with cutting emphasis. ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’ He gave her a cold smile. ‘I’m doing it for Simon. And I’ll be back—have no doubt about that, Triss.’
‘When?’ she enquired baldly. She plonked Simon’s favourite rattle onto his high-chair tray and followed Cormack out of the kitchen.
‘Tonight.’ His answer was just as blunt.
‘Tonight?’ Triss wrinkled up her nose, then gave him a pleading look, unable to stop her gaze from slowly roving over the length of that delicious body. How she wished that he would move those gorgeous legs out of her line of vision! They reminded her of things she would much rather forget—like her stupid and impetuous behaviour back at the cottage.
Had she really just fallen into bed with him again? How could she have done—especially after what had happened last time? She was seriously beginning to wonder if there was any hope for her where Cormack Casey was concerned.
‘But why tonight?’ she appealed. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to leave it until tomorrow, when we’ve all had a decent night’s sleep?’
‘Better for who?’ he demanded, in a voice which had all the gritty texture and coldness of iron shavings. ‘Certainly not for me, nor for Simon. It might be better for you, sure. Does it interfere with prior commitments, Triss? Maybe you’ve got a heavy date you can’t break?’
‘If you’re going to continue insulting me by making completely spurious claims about my sex life, then—’
‘Then what?’ he interrupted unsmilingly. ‘Then you’ll attempt to behave even more ruthlessly towards me? What’s next on your agenda, Triss? To grant me a fleeting glimpse of my son and then to take him right out of my life again?’
She shook her head, shocked—naively, perhaps—by the undisguised bitterness in his voice. ‘Of course not.’
His mouth tightened into a forbidding line. ‘But there’s no “of course” about it, is there? You spent nine months carrying my child without even bothering to tell me, and when he was born you chose not to inform me of that either. Clearly you must hate me with a passion, Triss.’
