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‘Meaning that they love you and you seem to be having difficulty accepting that.’
‘Spare me, please. You’ve spent a few hours over a dinner table with them—that does not endow you with the ability to judge their emotional state. Eighteen years ago I was a street kid. I was illiterate, foul-mouthed, and my greatest talent was my ability to fight dirty. Really, I was not loveable, and no one in their right mind would have taken me in.’
‘But you turned yourself around—surely you see how amazing that is?’
/> Only he didn’t—she could see that in the stubborn jut of his jaw, in the darkness of his expression as he looked back into the past and saw something that she couldn’t.
Without thought she moved closer to him, wanting to make him listen to her, force him to acquiesce to what was so obvious to her.
‘Marcus...’
‘Drop it, April. You got what you wanted. To meet Louise and Bill. There is absolutely no need for your pseudo-psychology.’
April halted in her tracks; the words made her flinch.
‘Or if you do feel the need perhaps you should aim the spotlight at yourself. You are the one who wants to give up a baby—your own flesh and blood. Maybe you need me to fall in with all this for yourself, so that you can believe all adoption stories have a happy ending.’
For a moment her feet wanted to move backwards, but she forced herself to remain where she was. Because despite the harshness of his words she recognised that he had a right to say them—that they weren’t the kind of put-down that Dean had delighted in. They were the barbs of a man in pain himself.
‘You are entitled to that opinion,’ she said quietly. ‘But it isn’t pseudo-psychology to recognise genuine love. You can deny it as much as you like, but your parents love you because you deserve to be loved. And, whether you believe me or not, if I am pregnant I will love this baby more than you can imagine.’
He raised his hand as if to reach out for her, and now she did step backwards.
‘I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EVER SINCE THEIR catastrophic conversation following the disastrous dinner April had avoided him. They met briefly over breakfast and dinner, when they uttered inane civilities, but she remained aloof, hidden behind a veneer of politeness and cool indifference—and Marcus couldn’t blame her. He’d behaved like the proverbial horse’s backside. Worse, he was too much of a coward even to apologise, in case it sparked another catastrophic conversation.
But things couldn’t go on like this. The week was very nearly over and April looked exhausted—so he’d decided today would be different.
Marcus looked at the breakfast he had laid out on the table and waited as he heard April’s footsteps approach. She pushed the door open and then checked on the threshold, looking from him to the table. Surprise raised her brows.
‘What’s this?’
‘Pancakes,’ he said with a touch of pride. ‘Admittedly the second batch—the first ones were a disaster. I wasn’t sure what you would want with them, so I thought I’d give you a choice. Bacon, maple syrup, lemon juice, sugar, blueberries—and there’s chocolate ice cream in the freezer.’
‘You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.’
Her expression was a near comical mix of wariness and innate politeness, and he grinned.
‘It’s OK. You don’t have to be polite. Just sit down and tuck in.’
Another hesitation and then she shrugged. ‘OK.’
Half an hour later satisfaction touched him as she polished off pancake number four.
‘I’ll tidy up, then I need go,’ she said.
‘Not so fast. There’s been a change of plan.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Frederick has ordered us to take a day off, and I’ve decided to obey the royal command.’
‘Well, I haven’t. They’re expecting me at the community centre and...’
Bracing himself, Marcus shook his head. ‘Actually, they aren’t. Mia is back now, and I’ve asked Mrs Hernandez to help out today.’
