had asked the shop-owner when they would do the work, suggesting that afternoon and evening would be good. What had happened next opened her eyes once and for all to the wealth and power of the man.
Phoebe had given Jed a condescending smile and told him the shop did not do the decorating—she was going to do it herself next week. But he had simply looked at her and said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ A few telephone calls later he was demanding her house keys and handing them over to a burly-looking man called Sid, along with the bags…
Apparently Sid was her son’s bodyguard, as of yesterday, and he was going to stay at her home to take care of things while the decorators did their work over the weekend. The timing was ideal.
Now, showered and changed into a blue velour V-necked jumpsuit, Phoebe sat on the bed watching her sleeping son and was forced to face that, no matter how much she protested over the idea of a bodyguard, Ben’s life was changed for ever. Jed had simply pointed out that Ben was his son and the fear of kidnap was an ever-present threat. That had shut her up…
Leaning forward, she brushed a few curls from his brow and dropped a soft kiss on his cheek. Standing up, she squared her shoulders and quietly left the bedroom.
PHOEBE looked along the small corridor that opened out into the kitchen-dining area and the living area and, taking a deep breath, walked forward.
A large soft-cushioned seating arrangement in cream and brown was fitted the whole length of one wall, and curved a few feet each side. The middle portion folded down into a double bed if needed. A glass-topped coffee table was in the centre, and on the other wall was a neat stone-effect electric fire. Comfortable and practical—but nothing like the sort of surroundings Jed was accustomed to, she thought dryly.
But, seeing Jed sprawled along one end of the sofa, minus his shoes and with his mobile phone to his ear, talking in rapid if muted Greek, the expression on his face one of intense concentration, she saw he looked surprisingly at home.
Jed, as if sensing her approach, finished his call and lifted his head, his dark eyes resting on her. ‘Ben asleep?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Please don’t interrupt your phone calls on my account. I’m going to make a cup of tea and go to bed.’
‘It is only eight, Phoebe, and avoiding the issue of Ben will not make it go away. Come and join me in a glass of champagne and try behaving like the intelligent woman you are instead of running scared all the time.’
It was only then that she noticed a bottle of champagne and two glasses standing on the unit that ran under the front window. ‘Where did you get that from?’
‘From the fridge in the car. We have more important things to talk about. Ben is our son and you have done a great job raising him. He is a bright, intelligent and loving boy all because of you, but he does need his father—more and more the older he gets. There will never be a better time than now to discuss his future.’
Rising to his feet, he opened the bottle of champagne with a quick twist, avoiding any explosive bang, and filled the two glasses. ‘You know I am right.’
He handed a glass to her and fatalistically she took it, carefully avoiding touching his fingers with hers.
‘I have no intention of pouncing on you, Phoebe,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Well, not unless I am asked.’ His lips twisted in the briefest of smiles. ‘Come and sit down and relax,’ he ordered, and lounged back down on the sofa.
He was right…as usual…and there was no point in avoiding the inevitable conversation any longer. She accepted that. As for relaxing—much to her chagrin she knew that was beyond her. She was too intensely aware of Jed. The close confines of the caravan did not help, but short of perching on one of the dining chairs Phoebe had no choice but to sit beside him—leaving a good two feet of space between them.
‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his glass to hers.
Reluctantly she touched it with hers. ‘Cheers,’ she murmured and took a sip.
‘Now, isn’t that better? A toast to old times between two friends.’
‘I suppose so.’ Except Jed had never truly seen her as a friend, only as a mistress…A willing woman to share his bed and a convenient sex partner, but not good enough share his real life. He had taken great care to make sure she never met his family or mixed with any of his high-echelon friends like the ambassador and Sophia—the sophisticated elite of Greek society—and she never would be. She had to remember that he was here for her son, nothing more.
Jed noted Phoebe’s hesitation and the shadow that clouded her brilliant eyes. He could tell something in what he had said had evoked a bitter memory of the past, though for the life of him he did not know why. But he wasn’t taking any chances.
‘This is an okay caravan—how long have you owned it?’ he asked, deciding to get her into a mellow mood before laying down the law.
‘Hardly up to your luxury standard!’ Phoebe quipped, arching a delicate eyebrow in his direction, not fooled for a moment by his change of subject. ‘But it is perfect for us,’ she stated, deciding to go along with him—anything to delay the inevitable argument over Ben. ‘We actually rented a caravan here for eight weeks the summer we had the two cottages converted into one. Ben was eighteen months old and he loved it by the sea so much Aunt Jemma and I decided to buy a caravan for our own use. We spend all our holidays here, and quite a few weekends,’ she said, taking another sip of champagne.
‘I can see Ben loves it by the sea.’ Jed glanced at her, his deep brown eyes smiling into hers. ‘I had a great time today with you both. I am not sure fish and chips for lunch is a healthy diet, but I enjoyed them.’
‘Yes, I noticed,’ Phoebe murmured, warmed by his smile in more ways than one. Hastily she took another swallow of champagne. ‘Ben loves going to the fish restaurant on the harbour, and the pizzeria here on site as well—though there is also a restaurant we could have gone to.’ She was beginning to ramble, and took another gulp of champagne and then drained the glass.
Jed refilled Phoebe’s glass, knowing from past experience she had no head for alcohol. After a couple of glasses of champagne she would relax and be much more amiable to his plan for Ben’s future. Underhand, maybe, but nowhere near as underhand as she had been in her efforts to deprive him of his son.
‘You wore him out, which is some accomplishment.’ Phoebe sank further back in the seat and, taking another sip of champagne, glanced sidelong at Jed. ‘Actually, you surprised me. You were very good with him, and he seems to like you.’
Jed regarded her silently for a long moment. She had no idea how condescending she sounded. Contrary to popular belief that men did not bond as quickly with their child as women, from the moment he had met Ben he had immediately felt a connection so intense it had surprised him. To have Phoebe say Ben seemed to like him actually stung—though he supposed he should be grateful she was prepared to concede that much after trying to deny he was his father altogether.
‘Thank you for that, Phoebe.’ If she recognised the sarcasm in his tone it did not show, and he continued in a softer vein. ‘But I have had plenty of practice with my sister’s children. She has four now—two girls and two boys. When Ben comes to Greece I know his cousins will be thrilled,
