Temporary Parents

He gave a short laugh. ‘Thanks for your faith in my powers of persuasion.’

‘You don’t need any abilities. You’re just good-looking,’ she snapped. ‘You don’t have to do anything, just stand about in masculine poses and look gorgeous.’ Appalled at her bitchiness, shamed by his stony silence, she blamed her venom on her shredded nerves.

‘Isn’t that look-ist or something?’ he asked tautly.

‘Not when it’s true. You’ve always relied on your appearance to get what you want.’

He studied her with interest, a dangerous glint in his dark, almost luminous eyes. ‘Shall we explore that statement further?’ he suggested, with menace lurking in every word.

‘No. I want to get the children settled!’ she replied, two glowing splashes of colour on her cheeks. The last thing she wanted was a rerun of her helpless crush on him. ‘Max, give it a try,’ she pleaded. ‘You know you could persuade the friend to stay.’

‘Perhaps,’ he conceded. ‘Though I doubt it would be a good move. If she’s prepared to abandon the kids, then she’s the usual sort of person Fay and Daniel gather around them.’

‘You can’t generalise...’

‘I’m drawing a reasonable conclusion, given the facts,’ he drawled. ‘Fay attracts people like her. Fickle. Fey. It wouldn’t surprise me if this friend doesn’t have the first idea about looking after children. Laura, I know from what Daniel told me that you’ve never seen the kids—’

‘Have you?’ she shot back, so sensitive about that fact that she took his remark for a reproach.

‘No. I imagine we’ve missed out for the same reasons. Fay and Daniel have spent the whole of their married life travelling around the back lanes of Britain and picking up their welfare cheques. It’s been almost impossible to keep in touch. Laura, think about this again. Perran would be easily catered for. Treat him as if he’s older, like a seven-year-old without any sense. As for Kerenza, well, babies sleep and eat a lot...don’t they?’ he asked uncertainly. ‘If your sister can cope, anyone can. I’m sure it’s no big deal, looking after them.’

‘I have a better idea. Your best bet is to employ a nanny. Go down and make friends with the children then introduce the nanny—make sure she’s kind,’ she said anxiously, ‘and—’

‘A nanny! That’s a brilliant idea!’ he said, much to her surprise. ‘Only...there’s a flaw in it. I wouldn’t have the first idea about the qualities a nanny should have,’ Max admitted. He studied her anxious, uptight figure and suddenly seemed to be hit by inspiration. ‘Wait a minute!’ he cried, his face creasing into smiles.

Laura took the full force of his charisma and felt a sucking sensation in the pit of her stomach. ‘Why should I?’ she asked ungraciously.

‘I have a compromise solution.’ He extended the smile to one of his dazzling grins.

She frowned, knowing perfectly well that he believed he could get anything from anyone if he just put on that open-faced, beguiling expression.

‘What?’

‘We both go down to Cornwall—’

‘Both? You and me?’ she squeaked, aghast.

‘I wasn’t thinking of asking Luke!’ he replied, his eyes sparkling with humour.

‘The answer’s no.’

‘Laura, we can reassure the children and hand out sweets or whatever you do—’

‘No.’

‘And stay till we’ve found a nanny with your help—’

‘No!’ Would he never accept that as her answer?

‘That couldn’t possibly take more than a few days,’ he went on, unwittingly responding to her silent question. ‘I’ll then fly to Marrakesh and pull a few strings so Daniel and Fay are released.’ And, with what was plainly a carefully judged, coaxing smile, he added softly, ‘It’s either that or the children must go into care. I leave it to you to decide.’

‘Oh, thanks.’

He didn’t know what he was asking. He wanted her to look after his son. She might as well stick knives into herself and be done with it.

She stared gloomily at her feet. From his casualness about Perran’s welfare, it was obvious that Max didn’t know he was the boy’s father. Fay had kept her secret and that was a small consolation.

But...it would be a terrible strain to do what he suggested. She’d be cooped up in a tiny cottage with Max, his child, and a little baby. More worrying, she’d want to cuddle the children and love them—but if she did she’d get terribly hurt.

She’d be forced to watch Max taking his turn—because she’d insist—in rocking the children to sleep or reading them bedtime stories. Simulated parenthood. The reality she could never have. The situation would be too poignant and it would create too many new scars.

No. Impossible.

A few days of longing, heartache, loving. Then emptiness again. The ultimate in masochism.

‘What’s it to be? Your needs or theirs?’ drawled Max cruelly.

Her spiky black lashes flicked up and there was a mute appeal in her brimming Wedgwood-blue eyes.

‘I—I...can’t! I—’ Her voice cracked up and she jammed shut her trembling mouth.

Max’s superficially genial expression changed in an instant. Charm was replaced by tensile steel. ‘It’s Luke, isn’t it?’ he demanded roughly. ‘God! You’re faced with a choice between your sister’s kids and your boyfriend and you choose him? He means that much to you?’

‘Stop browbeating me! I have to think this through,’ she said shakily, abandoning her door-barring pose and walking with unnatural care to sit tensely on the arm of a chair.

‘How long do you need to decide?’ he demanded.

‘I don’t know!’

‘It’s at least a five-hour drive there,’ he pointed out in grim tones. ‘I’d like us to leave in a few minutes. The friend ought to introduce us to Perran before his bedtime. The kiddie would be bewildered and frightened if he woke to find two strangers in the house claiming to be his aunt and uncle.’

So he did have some human concern after all. And he was right. She had to make a snap decision. Her hand wove its way through her hair, mussing it up thoroughly. Her heart was leaping erratically at the prospect that she’d be playing mummies and daddies with Max.

Unable to cope, she slid sideways into the chair and landed with a thump. Untangling her legs and twitching her short skirt back in place, she said with a weird huskiness, ‘You’re asking too much.’

‘No.’ Max folded his arms. ‘Your sister is. She always does.’

‘You really dislike her, don’t you?’ she accused.

‘utterly.’

She glared at his uncompromising agreement. It had been Daniel who’d led Fay astray, Daniel who’d got them into the travelling scene and introduced Fay to drugs. Fay had told her everything.

‘What about your brother?’ she said, rounding on Max, determined not to let an injustice pass. ‘He could have stopped this jaunt if he’d wanted. He’s equally guilty of deserting his children for his own selfish needs—’

‘You’re evading the issue,’ Max reminded her. He pulled out an ultra-slim mobile phone from his inside breast pocket. ‘I’m not wasting any more valuable time. I can ring Directory Enquiries and get the children’s officer to go along and pick the kids up. They’ll be off our hands. An easy solution. What do you think?’

‘You brute!’