As for herself, she suspected she was falling headlong in love with her handsome husband. The thought of being at a man’s mercy was what she’d always dreaded. But it was proving to be the most sensual, most emotional experience of her life. Nothing like what her mother had experienced.
“One spoon, please.”
He stirred it in. Hitching Dylan higher, he picked up the cup and saucer and came around the bed end.
As Connor put the tea down on the bed stand, Dylan grunted in protest and wriggled in his arms, clearly intent on diving into the covers. Laughing, Victoria hoisted the baby into her arms and buried her nose in his soft neck, making snuffling sounds that caused him to wriggle more wildly. Happiness soared through her.
Dylan grabbed at her hair.
“Ow.” Victoria carefully freed his fingers from the silky strands. Connor stooped forward to help. Dylan, finally spying an opening, dived under Connor’s arm in search of the tea cup.
“Hot,” Victoria said. Dylan reared away, already recognizing the warning.
A pile of newspapers landed on the bed beside her. “Why don’t you take it easy. Drink your tea, and take the opportunity to read the paper?”
She laughed. “Opportunity? With Dylan to help?”
“I’d planned to take Dylan to shower with me.”
“Ooh, he’ll love that.” And she gave Connor a glowing smile. “Thank you. I can’t remember when last I relaxed and simply lazed in bed.”
Shadows darkened the eyes that looked down into hers. Her heart contracted. They both knew the last time for either of them to relax without a care had been before that watershed weekend when Michael and Suzy had been killed.
Her throat tightened … her happiness, this dizzy emotional roller coaster, had followed the worst tragedy of her life. The terrible, wrenching loss that had taken Suzy from her had given her Dylan—and brought Connor into her life. He was far from being the total jerk she’d always thought he was—she’d discovered a side of him she liked … loved … that she wanted to get to know better.
It was insane.
Connor bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Take it easy, Tory. Dylan and I will make breakfast after our shower.” He swept the baby off the covers and jiggled Dylan up and down. “Won’t we, big guy?”
At the familiar name, she gave him a misty smile, then settled herself against the pillows and listened to Dylan’s crowing with glee.
“Thanks, Connor. It sounds like heaven.”
He hesitated. “I seem to remember Suzy calling you Tory. Everyone else calls you Victoria?”
“Well, yes, it’s my name, after all.”
“Don’t get smart,” he growled, swotting her bottom.
“I’ve never liked being called Vicki.”
“What about Tory? Do you like that?”
A pang shot through her. “Only Suzy and her parents ever called me that. It made it very special. Now they’re all gone.”
A brief silence fell.
At last Connor said gruffly, “Tory suits you. Makes me think of the toffee-gold in your eyes. It’s much less of a mouthful than Victoria.”
“You can call me Tory if you want,” she offered.
“I think I will.” He looked down at the baby curled against him. “Don’t you think so, Dyl?”
Dylan gooed.
Grinning at her, Connor said, “He agrees I should call you Tory.”
Still smiling, as Connor disappeared with the baby into the en suite, Victoria thought about the unexpected turn her life had taken.
And the Connor she’d discovered last night had blown her mind. Gentle. Passionate. She’d never intended to sleep with him, but it had been so right. She couldn’t bring herself to regret the annihilation of their no-sex pact, even though she suspected last night was going to change everything between them.
For the better.
From the bathroom she could hear the rumble of her lover’s deep voice and Dylan’s squeals.
He’d assured her he wouldn’t leave her high and dry. They had a chance to be the family she’d never dared dream of.
Despite her reservations about herself, about Connor’s ability to give her the independence she needed, they really could make this marriage work. At least they both knew exactly where they stood. There were no pretenses. For a brief moment she thought about the fact that she’s never told Connor that her eggs had helped Suzy to fall pregnant. That Dylan was part of her. Then she pushed it away. That wasn’t really a pretense—she’d kept it secret for Suzy’s sake. And she’d never considered herself Dylan’s mother—not until Suzy had been killed. But she knew she would have to tell Connor the truth—the sooner the better.
Contentment spread over her as she picked up the paper. The headlines were too depressing; she pulled her face. Her usual favorite, the financial pages didn’t draw her as they normally did. She flipped to the middle of the paper, to the personality features. An inset photo drew her eye.
Connor …
In the gossip pages?
The larger surrounding photo was of a laughing couple in wedding dress. She glanced at the caption. “Business as usual?” Dana and Paul had gotten married?
Did Connor know?
She quickly scanned further. The story salaciously rehashed the fact that Dana had been Connor’s live-in lover and that her defection to Paul’s bed had caused a split in the company.
But it was the concluding paragraph of the story that disturbed Victoria most. The reporter’s sly insinuation, that Connor’s same-day, low-key wedding had been his way of beating the wedding couple to the church door was given credence by Connor’s apparent refusal to comment.
Unmindful of the hiss of the shower and the sounds of glee in the en suite, Victoria set down the paper and stared blindly out of the bedroom window. She didn’t even see the first pair of tuis of the spring whistling in the giant pohutukawa in the garden—which would normally have delighted her.
Connor had known that Dana and Paul were getting married yesterday.
Nothing could dislodge that earth-shattering discovery. Connor had clearly known about the wedding—he’d even been tackily asked to comment. Had last night been about Dana marrying Paul?
A feeling of violation shrouded Victoria. Was it possible that in some twisted way she’d become Connor’s instrument of revenge against the couple who’d betrayed him?
No, it wasn’t possible. Because she had made the choice to move in with him. Not Connor.
But Connor had come up with the idea of marriage.…
And deep in her heart she suspected this was the reason why.
He was hurting. Two years on and still he couldn’t let it go. Underneath his bitterness at their betrayal must lie an immensely profound love for Dana.…
She gave a groan and rolled onto her stomach to bury her face in the soft down pillows.
She needed time to come to terms with this Sunday-morning bombshell. Once she’d recovered from the searing hurt, she’d confront Connor.
But not yet. Not while she felt wounded, raw … and so horribly exposed.
Connor juggled the slippery baby in his arms as water sluiced over them, rinsing off the suds.
Dylan was in heaven, if his squeals and frantic wiggles were anything to go by. Connor had a feeling today’s shower was going to become a weekly Sunday-morning ritual.
And damned if he hadn’t had fun, too.
He hiked the baby up and gave his sodden head a quick kiss. Soft warmth expanded in his chest.
A part of him.
Dylan was his.
And, God willing, they would have years together. He would watch Dylan grow up and he’d always be looking for parts of himself. Would Dylan’s dark-gray baby eyes lighten to the clarity of his? Or would they change to match Suzy’s angelic blues?
He was Dylan’s daddy. He could hardly wait for Dylan to utter the word. He’d teach it to the baby. But it would take nothing away from Michael.
In asking for his help Michael had given him the greatest gift of all. He’d agreed to be a sperm donor so that the bout of mumps Michael had suffered as a child wouldn’t deprive him and Suzy of the child they so desperately wanted.
He would make sure that Dylan grew up knowing everything about Michael. And his mother, too.
Although there were no signs of Suzy in Dylan yet, they would come. With luck the baby had inherited his own height.
“Never fear, you won’t be short,” he murmured to Dylan who was inquisitively playing with the stream of water that drenched them. “My genes won’t allow it.”
He grinned. Victoria would claim it was his arrogant gene showing through.
Victoria …
Intertwined with thinking about her sleepy eyes and tousled hair this morning came memories of last night. Her heat, her generosity, her gentle love for his son that contrasted so sharply with her blowtorch sensuality, which had forever altered his perceptions of her.
Dreary?
Not a damn.
Last night he’d gotten a very good feeling about the future. And today he intended to solidify what they already had.
“Ouch,” he exclaimed as Dylan grabbed at a sprinkling of chest hair. The baby gave him a grin that was all gums. Connor laughed back, then pinning Dylan securely to his right side, he used his free hand to turn off the faucet.
Dylan protested vocally.
“C’mon, Dylan, time to get Victoria—” He broke off. That wasn’t right. It should be Tory. Come to think of it, he was Dylan’s father … his daddy … and he wanted to make that fact public.