flighty and heartless! If she knew I was rich she’d be here quick enough! Morgan, she’s broken my heart! I never want to see her—even if she turns up in rags and trailing ten children in her wake, do you hear?’ he’d raged.
‘I hear,’ he’d said quietly, hoping some day to dissuade him.
But that had been before Morgan knew he was Jack’s father. And now Jodie was here, in dazzling scarlet and trailing fire and passion and a steely determination in her wake.
Common sense told him that he should send her away with a photo after a cup of tea. But could he live with himself, knowing that Sam had had the opportunity to enjoy the last year or two of his life in his daughter’s loving company?
‘God!’ he muttered. ‘What a choice!’
Hard on himself, as always, he forced himself to go through the motions of making tea, but his fingers were constantly stilled by the strangely haunting image of Jodie’s face.
What was it about her? Some element of Sam, his honesty, his goodness? It would have been easier if she’d been an out-and-out cow—selfish, flighty and heartless, as Sam had suggested.
But Morgan’s lasting image of her was of her transparent, innocent joy, which had cut through his suspicion and shock like a sword of light.
He stared into space, seeing the blinding smile which had lit up her extraordinary jade eyes till they’d sparkled like gemstones. She’d seemed almost vulnerable in her eagerness to tell him about herself.
Morgan thought of her passion when she’d begged for a crumb, the right to see what her father looked like because she had no photographs of him. Her words had sliced through his heart like a knife through butter. He understood that terrible emptiness of being somehow unfinished because of an unknown parent.
All his life he’d wanted to know who his father was. His rootlessness, his avoidance of committal and his dangerous hunger for love had undoubtedly been a consequence of that empty gap in his life. In that instant he had felt a visceral stab of compassion for her. And so he’d weakened.
Of course she was lying about the letters. But it was like the lie of a vulnerable child who can’t bear to be in the wrong. A greedy child, perhaps, he reminded himself with a frown, before he became too indulgent. Maybe she’d done some research on the Internet and had discovered that Sam Frazer was one of the most prestigious architects in the country.
He rubbed a thoughtful hand over his stubble. With Sam owning half the village and the lucrative practice, she’d be in line for a huge inheritance. And custody of Jack.
Morgan’s hands shook as he filled the kettle. Where would that leave him? Visiting occasionally. Looking on while she brought up his son.
‘No!’ he muttered vehemently. ‘Never in a million years!’
Sam only had a short time to live. Morgan had planned to adopt Jack when the older man died. But if Jodie was on the scene she would be firmly entrenched as Jack’s carer by then.
There’d be a legal tussle which could go on for years, with Jack in the middle—and by that time Jodie would to all intents and purposes be a mother figure to Jack. He couldn’t take his son away under those circumstances. It would be too cruel.
No! Better if he never let that situation arise. He sucked in a harsh breath. That settled it. He’d keep her at arm’s length and respect Sam’s explicit wishes. Tea and sympathy, then pack her off home.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
