from past experience I imagine love plays very little part in it. But I still don’t understand why you’re here,’ she continued stonily, refusing to acknowledge that the familiar tang of the aftershave he favoured had evoked a host of memories she wished had remained buried. ‘Presumably you read my letter explaining to Mr Carmichael that I would be returning to England to sort out the divorce. Why didn’t you just wait for me?’
Luc inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he sought to control the anger that surged through him. ‘I have spent almost a year longing to see my child,’ he ground out savagely, his eyes as cold and hard as slate, and Emily shivered as she realised the full extent of his fury. ‘Did you really expect me to wait passively, hoping you would show up? Do you have any idea what it felt like to learn from a letter you’d sent your solicitor that I had fathered a son? Sacré bleu!’ he ground out, his jaw rigid with tension. ‘You were happy to inform Monsieur Carmichael, but you didn’t even have the decency to tell me my son had been born, and for that I can never forgive you.’
‘Why should I have done?’ Emily defended herself, genuinely puzzled by his anger. ‘Why would I have rushed to tell you I’d given birth to our child when you were so vehemently opposed to his conception? You made it clear that you didn’t want either of us, Luc, so how can you blame me for wanting to bring Jean-Claude up among people who care for him?’
‘If you think I will allow my child to spend his formative years in a hippy commune you are even more delusional that I thought,’ he snarled furiously. ‘I have lost the first precious months of my son’s life and I hold you and your half-baked theories about my supposed affair with my personal assistant completely to blame. Jealousy is not an attractive emotion, chérie,’ he said, his eyes raking over her trembling form disparagingly. ‘You allowed your childish craving for attention to colour your judgement but the one to suffer most is our son. You had no right to deny him a relationship with me, and from now on he will know exactly who his father is,’ he told her forcefully, his gaze brimful of bitterness that corroded her soul.
‘I would never prevent you from seeing Jean-Claude, if that’s what you want,’ she muttered as she tried to come to terms with the astounding realisation that Luc seemed to want his son after all. Perhaps it had only been the sight of her pregnant body that had filled him with revulsion, she thought bitterly. ‘I assumed you would want nothing to do with him but I’m prepared to be reasonable about access arrangements if you’ve really lost your aversion to fatherhood.’
‘How very generous of you.’ Luc’s voice dripped with sarcasm and she flushed. He’d always had the knack of making her feel two feet high and once she would have backed down at the slightest hint of confrontation. Now she lifted her chin and stared at him, cursing her body’s involuntary reaction to him. How could he still have such an effect on her after everything he’d put her through, the humiliation he’d heaped on her?
She’d been overwhelmed from the first moment she’d set eyes on him, she acknowledged grimly. There was something about his face, the sharp cheekbones and very slightly hooked nose, that gave him the appearance of a hawk, his eyes gleaming from beneath heavy black brows, watchful and calculating. It was hard to believe that those eyes had once softened to the colour of woodsmoke, that the cruel line of his mouth had moulded into a sensual curve as he had explored her lips with a degree of passion and tenderness that had left her weak with longing.
She bit back a gasp as a curious pain uncoiled in the pit of her stomach, self-disgust swamping her as her imagination ran riot. What was desire doing, rearing its ugly head at a time like this, when Luc was studying her with insolent appraisal as if she was something unpleasant that had crawled out from beneath a stone? Swiftly she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her body’s blatant betrayal, sickness flooding through her when his gaze settled on her breasts and she saw his lip curl in sardonic amusement.
‘But, then, in certain areas you were always very generous, weren’t you, Emily?’ he drawled. ‘Especially in bed.’
‘Go to hell,’ she snapped, tears of mortification stinging her eyelids. How dared he look at her like that, as if she was some cheap tart and he was considering sampling her wares? ‘I’m surprised you even remember. It’s a long time since you chose to share my bed but, then, you didn’t need to did you, Luc? You were busy elsewhere.’ She broke off abruptly, twin spots of colour staining her cheeks. Now was not the time to reveal the depths of the clawing jealousy she’d experienced on those long, lonely nights when she’d waited in vain for him to come home.
‘As soon as I arrive in London, I’ll have my lawyers contact yours to arrange suitable access to Jean-Claude,’ she told him briskly as she looked towards the farmhouse. No doubt Laura was struggling to give her guests a guided tour of the kitchens with Jean-Claude clamped to her hip. The sooner she held her son in her arms the happier she would be, she decided after risking another peep at Luc’s inscrutable face. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and find him,’ she murmured awkwardly. She supposed she should invite Luc into the farmhouse to meet his son and her conscience prickled uncomfortably as he continued to stare down at her with those laser-beam eyes that she was sure could read her mind.
She didn’t want to take him inside, she acknowledged as a faint edge of apprehension gripped her once more. San Antonia was her territory, and for some reason she would prefer Luc’s first meeting with his son to take place on the neutral ground of her solicitor’s office. Time was getting on, she realised with a glance at her watch. The coach driver was looking impatient and if she wasn’t careful she would miss her flight.
‘Are you in the habit of losing my son?’ Luc enquired, his brows raised sardonically, and she flushed.
‘Of course not. I haven’t lost him, just mislaid him,’ she added, her vain attempt to lighten the situation, receiving no flicker of response from him. ‘So, I’ll see you in London.’ She needed to walk away from him but it seemed as if her feet were trapped in quicksand and she couldn’t move as her eyes greedily absorbed every detail of his beloved face. Not that she loved him any more, her mind hastily pointed out, but he possessed a magnetism that even now was wrapping itself around her, making coherent thought impossible.
‘As you wish.’ The curtness of Luc’s tone broke the spell and she became aware of his sudden impatience as he flicked back the sleeve of his jacket to read his watch. The brief glimpse of his tanned wrist, dusted with a sprinkling of fine black hairs, caused her tummy to lurch and she inhaled sharply. ‘We need to make a move anyway.’
His words puzzled her and she gave a harsh laugh. ‘Let me guess. Robyn is waiting in the car for you. I can’t fault her dedication to duty,’ she said sarcastically.
He was already walking away from her and paused briefly to glance over his shoulder. ‘Oui, Robyn’s behaviour and attitude are exemplary,’ he replied in a tone that clearly indicated her own failing in both departments. ‘But she is not with me this time. Jean-Claude is in the car and, no doubt, growing restless. Au revoir, chérie.’
Incredibly he had already dipped his head prior to sliding into the car and her feet suddenly grew wings. ‘Luc! Wait, what do you mean, he’s in the car? Jean-Claude is in the house with Laura—isn’t he?’ she finished uncertainly, and the blandness of his expression only served to increase her fear.
‘I took the liberty of stowing my son safely in the car while your attention was…’ He paused fractionally. ‘Elsewhere. Tell me, chérie, are you always so careless about leaving him unattended and in the full glare of the sun?’
‘He was shaded by the parasol,’ Emily defended herself fiercely, ‘and I did not leave him unattended. He was asleep and I was…’She was going to explain how she had taken advantage of Jean-Claude’s brief nap to load her luggage onto the
