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His gaze was very steady, but unmistakable pain glinted in the azure eyes as he asked, ‘Did I really treat you so badly that my behaviour warranted such callous treatment?’
He could be very persuasive—she had forgotten just how much. But she had not made those heartbreaking decisions about Simon for the good of her health. And while Cormack might now be playing the innocent, injured party with the kind of skill which could have guaranteed him a promising career as an actor it was vital that Triss did not forget what had started her out on this course of vengeance.
‘Did I, Triss?’ he asked softly, in a honeyed voice she could happily have drowned in. ‘Treat you so badly?’
Her huge hazel eyes sparked green and gold, like fireworks at the end of a summer party. ‘That’s a question you have to ask yourself, Cormack,’ she told him quietly. ‘Not me.’
Their eyes met for a long moment before he gave her the benefit of one of his most winning smiles, and Triss. almost reeled under its impact.
‘Can I borrow your car?’ he asked, with an unconsciously guileless look which could bring out the maternal instinct in the most hard-bitten and cynical career-woman. Triss knew this for a fact—she had witnessed
it on countless occasions.
‘What would you do if I said no?’
He moved closer. Close enough for Triss to be able to detect that enticingly masculine scent of lemon and spice which was all Cormack’s own.
‘I’d change your mind for you,’ he informed her softly.
‘I’d like to see you try!’
He smiled. ‘That sounds awfully like an invitation to me, sweetheart. Want to put it to the test?’
That was just the trouble. She did. And yet she didn’t. She knew damned well from that wickedly hungry look glinting in his blue eyes just what method he would employ to persuade her to lend him her car.
And if he kissed her now it might prove her complete undoing. She was only just recovering from the episode in bed at the cottage—and, frankly, she was surprised that Cormack had not mentioned it since they had been back. Not once.
Was that out of consideration for her feelings? Or because he was saving up the memory of her uninhibited sexual response to throw back in her face later?
His features were just a few tempting inches away.
‘Well?’ he murmured, on a throaty caress. ‘Shall we?’
‘No, thanks,’ she gulped, and stepped back quickly, as if he had just produced a sword and had begun to brandish it.
She was treated to a mocking smile.
‘Pity,’ was all he murmured as he opened the door and stepped over the threshold, pausing just for a moment. ‘Goodbye, sweetheart,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll be back later.’
‘G-goodbye.’
Triss stumbled back into the kitchen to find that Simon was in the act of smearing yoghurt and raspberries all over the tray of his high chair, and that a good deal of it had made its way into his hair, his ears and all over his blue and white striped dungarees!
She automatically picked up a roll of kitchen paper, tore off a generous handful and began to wipe the yoghurt off, but her mind was miles away. She scarcely even noticed when Simon leaned forward to lay a trusting but sticky cheek on her breast, depositing a pink, raspberry-scented blob in the process.
The mind, she had decided a long, long time ago, was something that could be controlled through will alone. And Triss was an expert on the subject—she had certainly practised it enough times!
You could lock certain memories away so that they could not torture you with their sweet poignancy—and that was what Triss had forced herself to do during the long months of her pregnancy, when she had felt so isolated and so alone.
The subject of Cormack had been like a cream cake to a determined dieter—something to be avoided at all costs! She had bided her time and waited, determined to find the optimum time to inform him that he was a father.
And then she had blown it by leaping so eagerly into his arms today. So what on earth did that say about her? Or him?
Triss sighed as she plucked Simon out of his high chair and carried him upstairs for his bath, knowing that she was weakening. Knowing that she was allowing her thoughts to wander along normally forbidden paths.
And one question alone clamoured to be heard.
Just what had happened to her and Cormack along the way?
