Wanting What She Can't Have. Yvonne Lindsay
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“I came as soon as I heard. I’m sorry it took so long. I...” Her voice trailed away. How did you tell a man that it had taken almost a year to hear about the birth of his daughter and the death of the love of his life because you’d severed ties with his wife, your best friend since kindergarten, when it became too painful to see her happiness with him? That you’d “forgotten” to give her your new email address or the number to the cell phone you bought when your work started requiring more international travel because you couldn’t bear to hear any more about how perfect they were together? Because you had coveted him for yourself?
Because you still did.
She took a deep breath and swallowed against the lump of raw grief that swelled in her throat.
“I’ve been traveling for a while, ever since my business...” The words died at the expression on his face. Clearly Raoul could not care less about the success she’d been enjoying ever since her clothing line finally started taking off. “Bree’s letter caught up with me at my father’s house. It must have been following me around the world for the past year.”
“Bree’s letter?”
“To tell me about her pregnancy.”
Should she tell him also that Bree had begged her to watch out for her husband and her, at that time, as yet unborn child? That she’d somehow known that the aortic aneurysm she’d kept secret from her family would take her life in childbirth? One look at his face confirmed he hadn’t known of his wife’s correspondence to her.
“So, you’re back.”
Finally. The unspoken word hung on the air between them, both an accusation and an acknowledgment at the same time.
“My mother was ill. I made it back a few weeks before she died at Christmas.”
“I’m sorry.”
The platitude fell automatically from his lips but she sensed his shields go up even stronger. He didn’t want to know, not really. Not when he was still locked tight in his own sorrow, his own grief.
“I only got Bree’s letter last week and rang her mom straightaway. I’m here to help with Ruby.”
“The child already has a carer, her grandmother.”
“Yes, but Catherine needs surgery, Raoul. She can’t keep putting her knee replacement off, especially now that Ruby is getting more active.”
“I told her to find a nanny if she needed to.”
“And I understand you rejected every résumé she presented to you. That you wouldn’t even agree to interview any of the applicants.”
He shrugged. “They weren’t good enough.”
Alexis felt her temper begin to rise. Catherine had been beside herself with worry over what to do. The osteoarthritis in her knee caused constant pain and made looking after a small child more difficult every day. She needed the surgery as soon as possible, but that meant Ruby absolutely had to have a new caretaker. By refusing to look at the résumés, Raoul was ignoring his responsibilities—to his daughter, to her grandmother and to Bree’s memory. He looked at her again, harder this time. What on earth was going on behind those hazel eyes of his?
“And what about me? Am I good enough?”
“No,” he answered emphatically. “Definitely not.”
She pushed aside the hurt his blunt refusal triggered.
“Why? You know I’m qualified—I have experience caring for little ones.”
“You’re a dressmaker now, though, aren’t you? Hardly what the child needs.”
Wow, he was really on form with the insults, wasn’t he, she thought. Dressmaker? Well, yes, she still made some of her signature designs but for the most part she outsourced the work now. She’d trained as a nanny when she’d left school, and had completed a full year intensive academic and practical experience program because her parents had been opposed to her trying to make a career following her artistic talent alone. But three years ago, when her last contract had finished, she’d realized it was time to follow her dream. That dream was now coming to fruition with her clothing label being distributed to high-end boutiques around the country and in various hot spots around the world. But Raoul didn’t care about any of that.
“I’ve arranged cover for my business,” she said, sending a silent prayer of thanks to her half sister, Tamsyn, for stepping into the breach. “Catherine’s already hired me, Raoul.”
“I’m unhiring you.”
Alexis sighed. Bree’s mom had said he might be difficult. She hadn’t been kidding.
“Don’t you think it’s better that Ruby be cared for by someone who knew her mother, who knows her family, rather than by a total stranger?”
“I don’t care.”
His words struck at her heart but she knew them for a lie. The truth was he cared too much.
“Catherine is packing Ruby’s things up now and bringing them over. She thought it best if she settled here from tonight rather than having me pick up Ruby in the morning.”
Raoul’s face visibly paled. “I said no, dammit! No to you as her nanny, and definitely no to either of you living here.”
“Her surgery is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Ruby can’t stay at her grandmother’s house any longer. She needs to be home, with you.”
Raoul pushed shaking fingers through hair cut close to his scalp—shorter than she’d ever seen it before. His hand dropped back down again and she watched as he gathered himself together, his fingers curling into tight fists as if he was holding on by a thread.
“Just keep her away from me.”
Alexis blinked in shock. Catherine had said Raoul had little to do with his nine-month-old daughter aside from meeting the financial requirements of her care. But despite the warning, Alexis couldn’t come to terms with what she’d been told. Ruby had been born out of love between two wonderful people who’d had the world at their feet when they’d married only two and a half years ago. She’d attended their wedding herself. Seen with her own eyes how much they’d adored one another and, to her shame, had been stricken with envy. That Raoul virtually ignored Ruby’s existence was so terribly sad. Did he blame the little girl for her mother’s death? Or could he just not bear the constant reminder of how he had lost the love he and Bree had shared?
Alexis forced herself to nod in response to his demand and started back up the unsealed lane from the winery toward the house—a large multiroomed masterpiece that sprawled across the top of the hill. Catherine had already given her a key along with a hefty supply of groceries and baby products. She’d need to put everything away before Catherine arrived with Ruby.
Ruby. A sharp pain lanced through her when she thought of the baby’s cherubic face. A happy, healthy and contented child, she was obviously closely bonded with Bree’s mom. To look at her, one would never guess that she had faced so much trouble in her short life.
After