while she settled Oliver.
‘You can help yourself to … um … whatever you can find in the fridge. I know dinner was probably not what you’re used to …’
‘Because I’m such a snob?’
Sarah sighed heavily, ‘I’m just conscious that we’re … we’re miles apart. When we were working out in Africa there wasn’t this great big chasm separating us …’
‘You need to move on from the past.’
‘You haven’t moved on from yours!’
‘I’m not following you?’
‘You thought you could buy Oliver with lots of presents because that’s what your past has conditioned you to think! And then you got impatient when you discovered that it doesn’t work that way.’
‘And you can’t move on from the fact that—okay … yes—I dumped you!’ Raoul thundered. ‘You want to find something to argue about—anything at all—because you’ve wrapped yourself up in a little world comprised of just you and Oliver and you can’t deal with the fact that I’m around now! Dinner was disappointing because it was stressful! I didn’t know how to deal with him.’
Hell, Oliver had played with his food, spread most of it on the table, and had received only the most indulgent scolding from Sarah! His childhood memories of mealtimes were of largely silent affairs, with rowdy behaviour at the table meriting instant punishment.
‘I don’t know how to deal with him.’
Dumbfounded by that raw admission, Sarah was overcome with regret for her outburst. He was so clever, so all-knowing, that she hadn’t really stopped to consider that now he really was at a loss.
‘I’m … I’m sorry, Raoul. I shouldn’t have said that stuff about your past …’ she mumbled.
‘Look, we’ve found ourselves in this situation, and constantly sniping isn’t going to get either of us very far.’
Mind made up, Sarah nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll take him up for a bath … Yes, you’re right … it’s difficult for both of us …’ She managed a smile. ‘I guess we both need to do some adjusting …’
She returned forty-five minutes later and looked as fresh as a daisy. He felt as though he had done ten rounds in a boxing ring.
‘I think he’s really beginning to warm to you!’ she said cheerfully.
Raoul raised his eyebrows in an expression of rampant scepticism. ‘Explain how you’ve managed to arrive at that conclusion?’ He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head with a short, dry laugh. ‘There’s no need to put on the Little Miss Sunshine act for me, Sarah. I may not know much when it comes to kids, but I’d have to have the IQ of a goldfish not to see that my own son has no time for me. You were right. All those toys were a complete waste of time and money.’
‘You’re just not accustomed to children. You don’t know how they think. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine you being a kid at all! Oliver enjoys pushing the boundaries. Most children do, Raoul. He’ll fiddle with his food until I have to be firm, and he’ll always go for just another five minutes or one more story or two scoops of ice cream, please.’
‘Whatever happened to discipline?’ Raoul scowled at her laid-back attitude.
‘Oh, there’s a lot of that. It’s just knowing when to decide that it’s really needed.’
She looked at Raoul thoughtfully. The man who could move mountains had discovered his Achilles’ heel, and she was sure that he would never ask for her help. He was stubbornly, maddeningly proud. To ask for help would be to admit a weakness, and she knew that was something he would find it very hard to do.
But helping him was the only solution—and, more than that, helping him would give her a psychological boost, even out the playing field.
‘Okay, well, he’s now thrilled with the car. Tonight I’ll pack away all the rest of the stuff you brought for him. I can bring bits out now and again as treats.’ She folded her arms and braced herself to take control with a guy who was so used to having the reins that he probably had no idea relinquishing them was a possibility.
Raoul sat back and clasped his hands behind his head. He had thought for one crazy moment, when he had laid eyes on her again, that time hadn’t changed her. He had been wrong. This was no longer the blindly adoring girl who had yielded to him with such abundant generosity. There was a steely glint in her eye now, and he realised that he had seen it before but maybe hadn’t really recognised it for what it was. The molten charge between them was still there, whether she wanted to admit it or not, but along with that was something else …
Raoul felt a certain fascination, and a surge of raw, powerful curiosity.
‘Am I about to get a ticking off?’ he drawled, his eyes roving lazily over her from head to toe in a way that made it difficult for her not to feel frazzled.
‘No,’ she said sweetly. ‘But I am going to tell you what you need to do, and you’re going to listen to me.’ She smiled a bit more when she saw his frown of incomprehension. ‘You like to think you know everything, but you don’t.’
‘Oh? You’re going to be my teacher, are you?’
‘Whether you like it or not!’
Raoul shot her a slow, dazzling smile. ‘Well, now,’ he said softly, instantly turning the tables on her, ‘it’s been a while since anyone taught me anything. You might find that I like it a lot more than you expect …’
SARAH looked at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were glowing. She looked excited. Guilt shot through her, because this was just what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to find herself giddy with anticipation because Raoul was on his way over.
For the past four weeks she had kept her manner brisk and impersonal. She had pretended not to notice those occasional sidelong glances of his, when his fabulous dark eyes would rest speculatively on her face. She had taken extra care to downplay what she wore. Anyone would have been forgiven for thinking that the only components of her wardrobe were faded jeans, tee shirts, shapeless jumpers and trainers. Now that the weather was getting warmer, and spring was edging tentatively into summer, the jumpers had been set aside, but the jeans, the tee shirts and the trainers were still fully in evidence.
Sarah was determined to make sure that her relationship with Raoul remained detached and uninvolved. She knew that she couldn’t afford to forget what had happened in the past.
She had thrown herself into the task of helping him get to know his son, and she had to admit that it was no longer the uphill struggle it had initially been. Oliver was gradually opening up and losing some of his restraint, and Raoul, in turn, was slowly learning how to relate to a child. Like a teacher struggling with troublesome pupils and finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, she could now cautiously tell herself that her role of mediator had been successful.
And that
