Betrayal. Maggie Cox

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Betrayal - Maggie  Cox

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style="font-size:15px;">      ‘Mummy, when are you coming home? I miss you lots.’

      At the sound of her daughter’s softly childish tones, Brenna melted. How she wished her little girl was with her now. What she wouldn’t give for the chance to just bury her face in her daughter’s silken dark curls and smell that sweet baby smell that even now as a four-year-old seemed to grow sweeter day by day.

      ‘Baby, I’ll be home soon … Just one more day, sweetheart, I promise. One more day and I’ll be driving home to you and Nana. Have you been a good girl? Nana says you’ve been helping her wash the dishes?’

      ‘We’ve been very busy doing housework and Nana says she couldn’t manage without me. I’m glad you’re coming home tomorrow. Will you bring me the comic I asked you for?’

      ‘Of course I will, sweetheart. I’ll pick one up at a service station on the way home. Take care now, darling. Mummy will see you tomorrow.’

      There was the sound of a heartfelt kiss being blown into the receiver and Nancy’s dulcet little voice saying ‘I love you, Mummy’.

      ‘I love you too, sweetheart.’

      The line clicked and returned to the dial tone. Brenna felt like crying. But she wouldn’t give into the need when she was meeting Fin Malone in the bar in a very short while. There was no way she was going to let him see her emotions laid bare again. How did she know he wasn’t going to feed it back to Nick to use against her in some way? No. She’d have a glass of wine for Dutch courage, she mused, then try to enjoy her meal and keep calm. In any case, she had to keep up her strength if she was going to be a match for Nancy’s father when he finally deigned to show up …

      She slipped into the intimately lit bar, fervently hoping to pass relatively unnoticed. But even as she hovered briefly in the doorway, several male heads swivelled towards her with speculative regard. Fin Malone was one of them. He’d been chatting with the young uniformed barman but when he saw the man stop drying the glass in his hand to stare transfixed over his shoulder, the American turned slowly to see what had suddenly captured his attention. Heat – hot, hard and sensual – slammed into his gut when he did. In those few highly charged seconds, he honestly believed he’d never seen a woman more alluring than Brenna Stewart and he’d seen a lot of lovely women in his time. She had little adornment to complement the slinky black dress she wore that floated elegantly down to her ankles, but then what adornment did she need with that eye-catching cleavage and silky waist-length black hair? When she spotted him and started to move across the room towards him, Fin sensed a very satisfying male pride swell in his chest. She moved like a dream, too. Maybe it had something to do with her dance training? Whatever it was, the woman was possessed of the kind of grace that couldn’t be bought or learnt. Nick had told him that she was a real beauty, but nothing could have prepared Fin for the sensual, spine-tingling reality that was Brenna.

      ‘Am I late?’ She blushed as she drew up beside him and Fin reached up to loosen the collar of his shirt slightly beneath his tuxedo. Suddenly the formal clothing was too warm for comfort.

      ‘It’s a lady’s prerogative. What would you like to drink?’

      ‘A glass of dry white wine please.’

      After getting their drinks, by mutual consent they moved to a secluded corner table away from the too interested glances of some of the bar’s other inhabitants. When they finally sat down, Brenna expelled a long shaky breath of grateful relief. Could everyone tell she felt like a fish out of water in this scenario? she wondered. Self-consciousness descended like a heavily lined cloak and she almost jumped out of her skin when Fin leant across the table to speak to her. He looked very handsome in his tuxedo. Too handsome for words, Brenna thought wildly, as appreciation and desire set her heart pounding. She almost didn’t know where to rest her gaze.

      ‘You look stunning.’ Crystal-blue eyes drifted lazily downwards to her cleavage, to the shadowy cleft between her full breasts, highlighted by the balconette bodice of her dress. Brenna hadn’t meant to be provocative but the dress was the only one she possessed that had seemed to fit the bill for the occasion. Fin’s appreciative male glance, however, now made her question the wisdom of wearing it. The little flare of heat in his eyes that he hadn’t been able to hide scorched her skin as though he had caressed her body in the most intimate way. How was she supposed to keep her cool when inside she was blazing like a furnace?

      ‘It’s an old dress.’ Her fingers clutched the stem of her wineglass as if using it to anchor her senses. ‘I don’t often have reason to wear it.’

      ‘That’s a shame.’

      ‘That’s a matter of opinion. I’m not interested in decking myself up to go out, to be honest. I’d rather be home with Nancy any day than enduring some fancy occasion with people I have nothing in common with.’ Realizing her implication as soon as the words were out, Brenna was immediately contrite. It was one thing to speak your mind, quite another to cause offence.

      ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’

      ‘I’ve been sitting here wondering what you’re like when you’re not so angry or defensive,’ Fin calmly cut in. Though right now, being the full-blooded male that he was, he couldn’t deny the provocative appeal of breasts heaving in a low-cut dress because their lovely owner was irate.

      ‘You’ll probably never find that out.’

      ‘Can I ask why?’

      ‘Look, I have every right to be angry and defensive! My life was perfectly fine until I got that damned letter from Nick a few days ago. How would you like someone to put you in the position he’s put me in, to have power over you in some way just because he provided the necessary chromosome to make a baby? An event he was singularly uninterested in at the time, I hasten to add, and has been uninterested in for the past five years? Now he thinks he can summon me just like that because he has the brass nerve to decide he wants joint custody of my daughter.’ At the arresting sight of a muscle flexing in the side of the American’s lean sculpted cheek, she paused, her breathing harried.

      ‘His daughter too, Brenna,’ he quietly reminded her. ‘Look … I don’t think for one second that Nick wants to make trouble. He only wants access to his child … to see her sometimes. Is that really so terrible? He’s a very wealthy man. He can provide things for her that will undoubtedly enhance her life: a good education, opportunities to travel and meet new people. He’s not trying to take her away from you.’ But even as Fin mouthed the words he had a horrible feeling that he was uttering them with very little belief in their content.

      ‘And do you think the things I provide, like love, care and attention, food and a roof over her head, don’t enhance her life?’

      ‘Did I say that?’ Fin’s expression suggested such cool implacability that it made Brenna even madder.

      ‘If Nick gets shared custody, then Nancy will probably have to spend part of the year in America. It will completely disrupt our lives. It’s an impossible situation and he has no right to—’

      ‘Whether you like it or not, he is her father. You’re both adults. You’ll work something out. Nancy won’t suffer if the two of you are absolutely committed to her welfare. I’m sure Nick would want nothing less.’

      ‘You really are his buddy, aren’t you?’ Her voice as scathing as she could make it, Brenna levered herself to her feet, eyes blazing. ‘If he isn’t here by midday tomorrow, I’m packing my bags and going home.

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