A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series)(35)

"But when did you . . ." She couldn't seem to gather her thoughts, and his smile widened.

"I started shopping when you told me about how you were forced to sell  the last one. It was delivered yesterday, but the visit to the aquarium  kind of distracted me. I figured you must be sick of that Jeep by now. I  know you're not a fan of it." She nodded dumbly in response to that  observation, still staring blankly down at the key in her hand. Bored  with the lack of attention, Kayla started tugging at her father's hand.  He glanced down at her and signed something to her that Bronwyn didn't  quite catch. Whatever it was seemed to satisfy the little girl because  she grudgingly settled down

"Take your time getting ready," he told her. "Kayla and I will be  downstairs packing our picnic. It's going to be a beautiful day; sunny,  with blue skies and not a single cloud on the horizon."



His prediction proved accurate; it was a beautiful day, the most perfect  day Bronwyn had ever spent with Bryce. After leading them down to  Bronwyn's gorgeous, sleek, new silver sedan, he told her that she would  be doing the driving. He had only Cal on security and-always a  consummate professional-the man was keeping such a low profile that  Bronwyn was barely aware of him in the discreet black sedan parked a few  meters away from them.

A little nervous about test-driving the new car in front of one of the  worst backseat drivers that she had ever met, she tried to demur.  Unfortunately, he wouldn't have it, and after strapping Kayla into the  baby seat that was already installed in the back, he made quite a show  of settling in on the passenger side. Bronwyn rolled her eyes and headed  for the driver's side, prepared for a day's worth of male condescension  from him.

She was rather pleasantly surprised that he valiantly refrained from  commenting when she had problems starting the keyless car. He kept a  bright smile glued to his face when she ground the clutch and the car  lurched forward and limped out of the driveway. She sent a nervous  glance at his profile after she had finally managed to get them down to  Main Street and could tell that his smile was beginning to fray at the  edges after less than five minutes in the car. She bit back an  irreverent chuckle before pulling the car over to the shoulder of the  road. He glanced over at her in alarm and she smiled at him sweetly.

"Do you want to drive?" she invited, and he grinned sheepishly.

"No, you're doing fine. I'm sorry if I seem tense. It's just that since  the accident I've been a bit nervous in cars. That's why I have Cal do  most of my driving these days."

"Well, I don't know where we're going, so it's better if you do the  driving today," she said reasonably. "I'll take over if you get tired or  something." He shook his head placidly.

"I'll be okay," he assured her. "It doesn't really matter if I'm driving  or not, I'm still uneasy in a car," he grudgingly explained, and she  could see how much it cost him to reveal that weakness to her. "I'll  give you directions."





  

"Fine, but keep the wincing down to a minimum, mister," she warned. "You've always been a terrible backseat driver."

"What do you mean?" He looked so genuinely baffled that she snorted in exasperation and restarted the car.

Following his directions and ignoring his occasional grimaces and  harshly indrawn breaths, she drove them safely to Boulder's Beach where  Bryce spent most of the morning trying to keep Kayla away from the  penguins. Bronwyn laughed helplessly at their antics. Kayla turned it  into a game, running from her father while she tried to pet one of the  many wild penguins that fearlessly waddled around on the beach,  completely ignoring his warnings that they would bite. At around twelve,  when it was too hot to remain on the beach, they packed up and he  directed her to the wine lands of Stellenbosch. Bronwyn was becoming  more confident in her handling of the car and was grinding the gears  less often, which in turn meant a more relaxed Bryce. They had a picnic  lunch in one of the beautiful privately owned vineyards in the  picturesque Stellenbosch.

"It's so beautiful here," Bronwyn observed dreamily as she tilted her  head back to enjoy the sun filtering through the leaves of the giant oak  tree that they were picnicking beneath. They were sitting up on a hill  that overlooked a vast vineyard. The vines were starting to go vivid  shades of orange and red and made the entire valley look like it was  aflame in the afternoon sunshine. "And peaceful. How did you know about  this place?"

"The family of a business acquaintance of mine owns this vineyard. I cleared this with him."

"Anybody I know?" she asked, tucking her feet beneath her and rummaging  through the picnic basket that he had settled on the blanket.

"I don't know," He shrugged. "Cord Strachan?"

"As in Strachan Diamonds?" Her eyes widened. The Strachan family was one  of South Africa's wealthiest and most influential families. They  controlled a huge chunk of the diamond mining industry in the country  and the latest generation provided a rich source of fodder for local and  international gossip columnists.

"They supply most of our rough diamonds." He nodded. "I remembered that  Cord mentioned this place over one of our business lunches a couple of  years ago." Before his accident, of course; any socializing had been  done before his accident. The reminder saddened Bronwyn and the awkward  silence that followed was entirely her fault. Luckily Kayla demanded  attention and distracted them with her antics. Bryce kept the little  girl entertained with silly games all through lunch, as Kayla had the  natural tendency of a toddler to grow bored very easily. Eventually,  after a companionable lunch, Bryce packed them all back into the car and  directed her to drive the short distance to a small town called  Klapmuts and there introduced them to a place Bronwyn had never known  existed.

She stood in an enclosed tropical garden and gazed in awe at the  hundreds of butterflies that fluttered around her. It was like watching a  garden of wildflowers take flight, and Bronwyn could do nothing but  stand and stare, her eyes filling with tears as their wings kissed her  face and hair. Kayla was just as entranced. She was in her father's arms  and reached out one chubby hand to try and capture the delicate  creatures as they flitted by.

"Oh my God," Bronwyn breathed, lifting a trembling hand to her mouth.  "Oh my God, Bryce . . ." He couldn't hear her of course; he couldn't  even see what she was saying as his attention was focused on the fragile  creatures that were haphazardly darting from flower to flower and  person to person. How dare he make this so difficult for her? Just when  she had decided to contact the divorce lawyer, he did something so  wonderfully tender and so unbelievably sweet. He knew that she loved  butterflies, that she had always loved them. She had countless earrings,  chains, charms, printed skirts, and blouses with butterflies scattered  all over them. It would be so easy to believe that he had planned this  day out of some manipulative need to keep her complacent. But when she  looked up she found herself charmed by the arresting picture he made  with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He was lost in his own  world, enjoying the sensation of the delicate butterfly wings brushing  against his face, and Bronwyn instinctively knew that he had done this  to make her happy. She stood on her toes to drop an impulsive kiss on  his cheek and startled him into opening his eyes. He looked down at her  quizzically.

"This is perfect," she told him, and his eyes warmed. "Thank you."

He dropped an arm over her slender shoulders and gave her a quick, little one-armed hug.





  

"I saw an advertisement for this place last winter and I knew that you'd  like it." Last winter? At least six months before her return? He had  learned about this place and thought of her. Not with any hatred or  resentment it seemed. Instead he had thought about something that would  make her happy. It was startling to know that he hadn't always thought  of her in anger over the last couple of years, and Bronwyn wasn't sure  how to process that information.



They got home shortly before eight, and Kayla was once again drooping in exhaustion. Bryce took her from Bronwyn's arms.

"I'll put her to bed," he offered.

"Bryce, you've been taking care of her all week, I should-"

"And you've been taking care of her on your own for years. This is the  least I can do," he interrupted, and she protested no further. She knew  that he needed to make up for the past but that wasn't what she wanted  from him anymore. They had to think of the future and ensure that it was  a happy one for all of them. Bronwyn just couldn't live with his  secrets any longer. And she was only human, so she still felt so much  anger and bitterness toward him for misjudging her so horribly.

She went upstairs to take a hot shower, and when she headed toward the  study later, she ran into Bryce as he was coming from the kitchen with a  glass of fruit juice in his hand.