incentive.
He wasn’t wasting any more time trying to talk sensibly to Phoebe. Tomorrow he was going to tell Ben he was his father and take it from there. The sexy, malleable girl of twenty-one had morphed into an even sexier, sophisticated but stubborn woman. He could wait. She would come round to his way of thinking in the end—in his experience women always did.
He was not a conceited man, but endowed with looks, brains and wealth—especially wealth—he had never met a woman yet who would not jump to marry him given half a chance. Phoebe was no different. The lure of a life of luxury would eventually overcome any scruples she might have. But he was not waiting for his son.
Phoebe woke up and groaned for a moment, not sure where she was. She forced open her eyes and realised she was at the caravan, and as the memory of yesterday surfaced she groaned again.
Another day with Jed was not something she wanted to contemplate. She’d had as much as she could stand from the man, even though her wayward body seemed to delight in making a liar out of her.
She sat up in bed and glanced at her wristwatch. Nine in the morning. It couldn’t be…Ben was always awake at the crack of dawn. Her first thought was that he must be ill. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she was about to stand up when Ben burst in.
‘Great—you’re up, Mum. Jed said I had to let you sleep, but you have been asleep for ages. We have been down to the café on the seafront and had breakfast and everything.’
‘You should have called me. You know you must not go anywhere without telling me.’ She was terrified at the thought Jed had taken Ben. He could have driven Ben off to heaven knew where—her worst nightmare…
‘Jed said it was fine, because you were tired and needed a rest.’
Phoebe looked down at her son and saw the worried look in his eyes. She forced a smile ‘Yes, it was okay—but don’t do it again without telling me, hmm?’ Planting a kiss on his brow, she straightened her shoulders, silently cursing the damn man.
Only to find Jed was now standing at the foot of her bed.
‘Good morning, Phoebe. I hope you slept well?’ he drawled in a deep husky tone, his dark eyes roaming over her with blatant masculine appreciation.
She swallowed hard and felt her breasts tighten beneath her top. He looked so gorgeously male, wearing jeans and a blue sweater, and suddenly she was terribly conscious of the short pyjamas she wore.
‘Yes,’ she muttered, pink-cheeked with embarrassment and unable to look him in the eye. She tried to straighten the clinging cotton top, but only succeeded in revealing her burgeoning nipples.
‘Mum, Mum—you will never guess!’
She was glad to turn her attention to Ben. ‘Guess what?’ she asked.
‘Jed told me at breakfast I have a daddy, and he knows where he is.’
Her clothing or lack of it faded into insignificance at his statement.
For a second Phoebe closed her eyes, her pink cheeks draining to a deathly shade of pale, and she wished the ground would open and swallow her up—or preferably Jed Sabbides. She had known some day she would have to explain to Ben more fully about his father—her aunt had warned her often enough—but not like this, being forced into it. She opened her eyes to find Ben staring at her, positively buzzing with excitement. Slowly tilting back her head, she stared up at Jed.
‘It came up in conversation, Phoebe, and I would not lie to the boy. But I did say we had to ask your permission first.’
She met his not so innocent gaze, her blue eyes sparking with anger. ‘Big of you. Now, would you mind leaving while I dress?’
‘But I want to know where my dad is now.’
Ben was adamant, and though it wasn’t the way she would have chosen to tell him there was no way was she letting Jed do it for her.
Pride and anger stiffened her spine, and, lifting Ben onto her lap, she stroked a few wayward curls from his brow.
‘You know I said you didn’t have a father because we had parted long before you were born? Well, Jed knows where your father is because he is your father, Ben, and he found us.’
Ben looked solemnly up at Jed. ‘Are you really my
daddy?’
‘Yes, Ben. Your mum and I lost touch, and I had no idea you existed until Friday, when we met again and to my joy I discovered you were my son. I promise we will never lose each other again.’
‘Can I call you Daddy?’ Ben asked tentatively, and Phoebe’s heart ached for him and for herself.
‘Yes, certainly, Ben. There is nothing I would like better in the world than to have you call me Daddy,’ Jed replied, and gave him a hug.
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