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‘I don’t want Dad to have to come and pick me up.’
‘Why not?’ Lara put milk on to boil and placed mugs on a tray. ‘He wouldn’t mind.’
Chloe shook her head. ‘It’s too much to ask.’
Lara stood still. ‘Chloe, he’s your father. His role is to ferry you everywhere at all sorts of inconvenient hours. You’re not supposed to be this thoughtful!’
‘I don’t want to be a bother. He’s had a lot to cope with.’
‘Does he look as though he’s struggling?’
‘No, but he only ever thinks about work and us. Never about himself.’
Lara rescued the milk from the hob and made the chocolate. ‘Stop thinking about him and think about yourself. Would you like to go to the disco?’
Chloe didn’t look at her. ‘No. I’ll stay here.’
No, you won’t, Lara thought to herself as she lifted the tray and carried it through to the living room. One way or another, Cinderella, you will be going to the ball.
* * *
Christian checked that both girls were asleep and then strolled downstairs to the sitting room.
The Christmas tree lights glowed brightly and the log fire flickered and crackled in the grate. The remains of the game that Aggie had been playing was still strewn over the rug.
The room felt lived in and cosy.
Lara was lying on the sofa, her eyes closed, but she opened them when he walked into the room. ‘Sorry.’ She gave a faint smile. ‘Just feeling mildly exhausted.’
‘Full-time employment and children aren’t a relaxing combination.’
She gave him a long look and then sat up. ‘Absolutely. Well, I suppose I’d better go to bed.’
‘Running away, Lara?’ Part of him hoped that she was. It would make things so much easier.
Her gaze slid to his. ‘Perhaps I am. I don’t know what else to do and I’ve tried all the other alternatives. The tension is making my stomach churn and I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t want to feel this way about you. I need you to reveal a really major flaw very quickly.’
‘I have dozens of major flaws.’
Lara looked at him with something close to desperation. ‘I can’t see any of them.’
Christian examined the contents of his glass. ‘My ex-wife called me a cold-hearted bastard who was incapable of making an emotional connection. Does that help?’
‘No. Because I’ve seen you with your girls. You’re wonderful with them. And you’re great with worried children in the ED. Not cold at all.’
‘Children are different,’ he said softly. ‘They have no artifice, no hidden agenda.’
‘Did your wife have a hidden agenda?’
He stilled. ‘I couldn’t give her what she wanted. You need to remember that, Lara. It might be just the flaw you’re looking for.’
‘So because the two of you were incompatible, you’re never going to get involved with a woman again? Has it occurred to you that it isn’t a good example to set? Just because it went wrong once in the past, it doesn’t mean it can’t go right in the future.’
‘From that comment I take it that your parents are extremely happily married.’
‘Thirty years last June. Why? Are yours divorced now?’
‘Oh, no. Nothing so civilised.’ He drained his glass, feeling the warmth from the alcohol spread through his veins. ‘They preferred to stay together and fight.’
