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She shrugged. As soon as his back was turned she jerked the robe tighter, tugging the hem lower over her thighs. ‘Chamomile. Or peppermint. I can make it myself.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘I’m sure you can,’ he said.
She watched as he filled a teapot with boiling water from the coffee machine.
‘Here we are.’ He slid a teapot onto the counter. Her eyes darted to the cups—the two cups.
‘I thought I’d join you.’ His eyes rested on her face. ‘Unless you’ve any objections?’
Taking her silence as consent, he slid onto one of the bar stools and she jerked her eyes away from the flex of his stomach muscles. ‘Would it matter if I did?’
He held her gaze. ‘That would depend, I suppose, on your objection.’
She swallowed. ‘You sound like a lawyer.’
He didn’t flinch. ‘You’re not on trial here, Lottie.’
‘Really?’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not how it feels to me.’
He leaned backwards, his arm draped casually against the counter, but she caught a flash of blue and knew that he was watching her intently. ‘I disagree.’
She blinked. ‘Right. So you’re telling me how I’m feeling?’ she said slowly.
Her fingers twitched against the handle of the cup. There was something about his words that made a veil of red slide in front of her eyes. His arrogant assumption that he knew better than her. That he knew her better than she knew herself.
‘That’s not what I said.’
‘And yet that’s exactly how it sounded.’ She glared at him.
He sighed. ‘You know, if anyone’s on trial here it’s me—although I have to admit I’m not exactly sure what it is you’re accusing me of doing.’
She was suddenly simmering with anger. Surely he was joking? ‘
Other than backing me into a corner and threatening me with lawyers at every opportunity.’
‘There was nothing threatening in that letter—which you would know if you’d bothered to read it. But then why read it when you’ve already made up your mind?’
He spoke quietly, but she could hear a thread of exasperation weaving through his voice.
What did he have to be frustrated about?
She was the one losing control of her life and her daughter. And it was disingenuous of him to say that the letter wasn’t threatening. Maybe it wasn’t, but the fact that he had lawyers on call who worked out of office hours to protect his interests was intimidating, and he knew it.
‘You said that you didn’t want to escalate things,’ she said accusingly. ‘That you just want what’s best for Sóley—’
‘I don’t.’ He cut her off. ‘And I do.’
‘Well, I disagree.’ She met his gaze, feeling a small rush of satisfaction as she threw his words back at him. ‘You want what’s best for you. Everything is on your terms. Where we met, when we met. This holiday. You even went behind my back to Georgina.’
‘Out of courtesy.’ His blue eyes were like chips of glacial ice. ‘And if I hadn’t—if I’d left it to you—I’d still be waiting to meet my daughter.’
She stared at him, open-mouthed, a beat of anger leapfrogging across her skin. He was unbelievable. How could he be so unfair? So self-righteous?
‘In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who got in touch with you.’
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ he said tersely. ‘I just don’t understand why you bothered.’
