being a mom to George.’
And grieving for the man I loved and lost.
Blocking off the memories of those terrible weeks and months after they’d split, she cleared her throat. ‘We were already divorced by the time I found out I was pregnant. We weren’t talking, and you weren’t even in the country.’
His eyes bored into eyes. ‘And so you just unilaterally decided to disappear into thin air with my child? He’s my son—not some prop in your magic show.’
Stung, and shocked by the level of emotion in his voice, she said defensively, ‘I know and I’m sorry.’
He swore under his breath. ‘Sorry is not enough, Teddie. I have a child, and I fully intend to get to know him.’
It wasn’t an outright threat, more a statement of intent, but she could see that his shock at discovering he was a father was fading and in its place was that familiar need to take control of the situation.
She felt a ripple of apprehension run down her backbone. Where did that leave her?
Last time she and Aristo had gone head to head she’d been cast out from his kingdom, her unimportance in his life no longer just a private fear but an actuality.
But four years ago she’d been young and in love, unsure of her place in the world. Now, though, she was a successful businesswoman and a hands-on single mother—and, most important of all, she understood what she’d been too naive and too dazzled to see four years ago.
Aristo had no capacity for or interest in emotional ties. She’d learned that first-hand over six agonising months spent watching his obsession with work consume their marriage and exclude her from his life.
She brought her eyes back to his. Yes, she should have told him the truth, but he’d given her no reason to do so—no reason other than biology for her to allow him into George’s life.
And now? Maybe if Aristo had been a different kind of man she would have caved, but she knew that no matter how insistent he was now about wanting to get to know their son, it was only a matter of time before he lost interest—like her own father had. But George would not grow up as she had, feeling as though he was at the bottom of his father’s agenda.
‘Our son is not some chess piece you can move about on a board to suit you, Aristo. He’s a person with feelings and needs—’
He cut her off. ‘Yes, he is, and he needs to see me—his father.’
Folding her arms, Teddie glared at him, anger leaping over her skin in pulses. ‘He needs consistency and security—not somebody offering him trips on a speedboat and then disappearing for days.’
He shook his head dismissively. ‘I’m standing right here, Teddie.’
‘For how long?’ she countered. ‘A day? A week? I mean, when exactly is your next business trip?’
His jaw tightened. ‘That is irrelevant.’
‘No, it’s not. I’m being realistic about your limitations.’
Looking away, she clenched her fists. And her limitations. Her life might be bereft of romance and passion, but it was peaceful. The thought of having Aristo flitting in and out of her and George’s life was just too unbearable to contemplate.
‘I have rights, Teddie,’ he said quietly, and something in his voice pulled her gaze back to his face. ‘I’m guessing you can live with ignoring that fact—you’ve managed it for four years. But George has rights too, and I’m wondering what’s going to happen when he realises that he has a father—a father you kept at arm’s length. Can you live with that?’
Teddie stared at him, her heart pounding, hating him for finding the weakness in her argument.
‘Fine,’ she snapped, her hands balling into fists. ‘You can see him.’ But it was absolutely, definitely not going to be in her apartment. ‘I suggest we find somewhere neutral.’
‘Neutral—that’s an interesting euphemism.’
He suddenly sounded amused, and she felt her pulse accelerate as she realised that his anger seemed to have faded and he was now watching her intently in a way that made her breathing come to a sudden, swift stop.
‘If you’re trying to find a place where you and I will feel “neutral” about one another, then I think you might need a bigger planet. Maybe a different solar system.’
She swallowed. His words were reverberating inside her head, bumping into memories so explicit and uncensored that she had to curl her fingers into her palms to stop her hands shaking.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said hoarsely, trying her hardest not to notice the way her stomach was clenching.
She felt heat break out over her skin as he took a step towards her.
‘Yes, you do, Teddie. I’m talking about sex. And about how, despite all this, you still want me and I still want you.’
An ache like hunger, only more insistent, shot through her and she stared at him, her green eyes widening in shock at the bluntness of his statement.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What? Are you going to lie about that too?’ He shook his head dismissively. ‘Then you’re a coward as well as a liar.’
‘I’m not a coward,’ she snapped. ‘I just don’t happen to agree with your unnecessary and rather crude remark.’
His dark eyes locked onto hers and she knew that this time her lie might as well be written in block capitals across her forehead.
‘Yes, you do. You’re just scared that you feel this way. Scared that you want me.’
Teddie breathed out shakily. He was close now—close enough for her to see the tiny flecks of grey and gold in the inky pools of his eyes. Close enough that she could smell his clean, masculine scent. So close that she could not just see the curves of muscle beneath his sweater but reach out and touch them—
‘You’re so arrogant.’
He took another step closer and lifted his hand. Her pulse fluttered as he traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb.
‘And you’re so beautiful, but neither of those statements changes the facts.’
She could feel his gaze seeking hers and, looking up, she saw that his eyes were shimmering with an emotion she recognised and understood—because she was feeling it too.
‘Like it or not, we still burn for one another, and I know you feel it too. There’s a connection between us.’
She stared at him, hypnotised not just by the truth of his words but by the slow, steady pulse of heat in her blood. And then, in a split second of clarity, she saw herself, saw his hand capturing her face, saw where it was heading, and was instantly maddened by his audacity and ashamed of her weakness.
Jerking her head away from his hand, she lifted her chin. ‘You’re wrong, Aristo. It’s all in your head. It’s not real,’ she lied again.
