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Chapter 12
I’m turning into a midnight prowler, Annabelle decided, after slipping out of bed yet again to check on her sleeping son. Jake had refused to speak to her or even meet her eye for the rest of the evening, remaining ensconced in the games room with Sam. He didn’t appear to have said anything to Izzie though, which Annabelle was grateful for. She was only just able to cope with Jake’s animosity – if her sweet, innocent little daughter discovered that her mum was refusing to allow her to speak to her father it would devastate her. It would devastate Annabelle, too, and with tears so close to the surface, she feared she might break down.
It had taken Annabelle a long time to calm down, and her distress had been obvious when she’d returned to the living room. Tactfully no one had mentioned anything, although she’d caught Kate’s concerned glances, and Ron had gazed at her steadily, but she’d been unable to decipher the look in his eyes.
Eventually Kate had managed to get her on her own and had asked her outright if she was all right.
About to reply that she was fine, Annabelle had changed her mind. ‘It’s Jake,’ she’d said. ‘He wanted to speak to his father and I told him no, and now he hates me.’
To her surprise, Kate hadn’t been at all concerned. ‘I’m sure he doesn’t,’ she’d said. ‘My kids tell me they hate me all the time, but they don’t mean it.’
‘Jake does.’ Annabelle was convinced – if she hated herself, how could Jake not? ‘He’s never said anything like that to me before.’
‘Count yourself lucky. Seriously,’ Kate had continued, ‘he doesn’t mean it. He’s scared and hurt. He’s lashing out, and you’re the one closest to him, so…’
Chatting to Kate had put things into perspective. Jake might be angry with her, but deep down she knew he loved her. He also loved his father, and she’d have to be careful how she handled that. She didn’t want to prevent her children from speaking to Troy, or even seeing him if he ever deigned to visit the UK, but she had to make it clear to her ex-husband that they wouldn’t be going back and that he wasn’t to give their children false hope.
Someone was still up, she noticed, as she slunk out of the room she shared with Izzie, because there were voices coming from Ellis and Portia’s room, and she could hear the shower running in the family bathroom.
Quietly she opened the door to the boys’ room and peeped inside. Both bunks had hunched duvet-covered forms lying in them and she recognised the soft snuffle from the boy on the lower bunk as coming from her son.
Relieved that he, at least, wasn’t lying awake fretting, Annabelle studied him for a while then she gently pulled the door closed.
As she did so, the bathroom door behind her opened and out came Ron.
She hadn’t realised the shower had stopped, so intent had she been on Jake, that she let out a shriek of surprise and clapped a hand to her mouth.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise you were still up.’
‘I’m not,’ she squeaked. ‘I’m in bed. I mean, Iwasin bed, but I got up to check on Jake.’ She knew she was blabbering, but seeing Ron had thrown her – mainly because he wassemi-naked.
All Ron was wearing was a towel around his waist and aconcerned expression.’Is everything OK?’ he asked.
‘Hmm?’ Annabelle murmured. Blimmin’ heck, he was fit. He had one of the nicest chests she’d ever seen on a man in his mid-forties – and living in Cairns, she’d seen her fair share over the years.
‘Is there anything I can help with?’ he persisted.
Annabelle snapped into focus. What on earth was she doing, drooling over a man, when her son thought she was the devil incarnate?
‘Not really,’ she said, ‘but thanks, anyway.’ She cut herself a bit of slack for her reaction to him – it had been purely animalistic, a healthy female response to anattractive man. That she’d felt a jolt of desire shoot through her at the sight of the smattering of hairs on his chest, his muscled shoulders, the curve of his collarbone, and skin still glistening with moisture, didn’t detract from her being worried about Jake.
But Jake was sleeping like a baby at the moment, and Annabellehadn’t felt the strength of a man’s arms around her in a very long time. She longed to be held and comforted, cherished and desired. Yes,desired, because she’d forgotten what that was like.
‘Can you take me now?’ she asked, not wanting to return to her cold, sleepless bed just yet.
‘Pardon?’
Oh, Lord! Annabelle blushed furiously as she realised what she’d just said. Slowly she drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, then opened them again.
Ron was studying her with a waryexpression.
‘Stargazing,’ she said distinctly.
Understanding flared in his eyes and it was his turn to be embarrassed. ‘Ah, right. Um.... now?’
‘Would you mind? It’s abeautiful night.’
‘It certainly is. If you’resure?’
