Visconti's Forgotten Heir(61)

‘As you know, I won’t be here for most of next week,’ he said, after they had tucked him up in bed, reminding her of the phone conversation he’d had with his colleague earlier in the day. ‘I’m doing a tour of the properties in the Lake District and the north-east that I’m going to be taking over from PJ. It was scheduled for this week, but in view of more pressing developments...’ He didn’t need to explain how essential it had been for him to postpone as much as he had been able to in favour of getting to know his boy. ‘I’ll be gone until Thursday. That’s if Lana’s managed to book us an afternoon flight—’

‘Lana?’ she was querying, before he could finish.

‘Yes, Lana Barleythorne. You met her at your interview,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘She’ll be coming with me.’

He was about to tell her why, but decided not to, leaving her to speculate as he tried to gauge her reaction. In truth he was wishing that he could leave the adoring Miss Barleythorne securely grounded in the office, but she was becoming a darned good project manager and he was going to need her skills on this country house hotels enterprise—which was why he’d deemed it necessary to have her with him.

Now, though, as Magenta said only, ‘Right,’ with a dismissive little shrug, he wondered with some annoyance whether he shouldn’t take the time to enjoy some of the pleasures that Lana would be more than willing to offer him. At least then, he thought, as he did the sensible thing and left the shabby little flat for the sake of his sanity, he might be able to appreciate a woman as he’d always done—on a purely casual basis—and drive this insane craving for Magenta out of his mind.

* * *

Over the next week, although she willed herself not to, Magenta missed Andreas terribly. She didn’t know which was worse: hearing from him when he rang sometimes to speak to Theo and make casual conversation with her, or not hearing from him at all. She was getting through each day, she realised, just living for his phone calls, and she berated herself for loving him and for even thinking about him so much when she should have been doing what she had always done until Andreas had come into her life again—and that was channelling all her energies towards her son.

Having agreed to Andreas’s request not to pursue the idea of getting another job, at least until after Theo started back to school, Magenta took the little boy out every day—either with her aunt or on her own.

Making the most of the continuing sunshine she took him to the park, or to their local nature reserve, or just to his favourite café, where she bought him an extra thick milkshake as a special treat. She started using the Mini too, which she’d accepted for Theo’s benefit. Everything Andreas was doing for them was for Theo’s benefit, she reflected painfully, since he’d found out that the boy was his.

At night she read to Theo, as she had done from when he was very small, encouraging him to read to her in turn, keen to develop his interest in books from an early age—which was probably why he was showing such an aptitude for learning now. Some nights they would watch a cartoon, or one of his favourite wildlife DVDs together while he was eating his supper, and then she would tuck him up in bed and tell him a story until his eyelids started to droop and he fell asleep.

Alone then, she would find her thoughts wandering too readily to Andreas—although the idea of him being away for nearly a week with a woman whose interest in him had been patently obvious at that interview was more than her bruised and aching heart could take.

She was glad when the torment was over and the Thursday of that week brought him back.

He had told her that Simon would be picking her and Theo up in the limousine that afternoon, to drive them over to Surrey. He was inviting them both to stay for a long weekend. ‘We’re going to need to discuss his future,’ he’d said, in a way that had made her stomach muscles clench painfully. ‘We can’t go on without any set course, and it’s best that we each know where we stand from the start.’

It was with increasing anxiety, therefore, that late that afternoon Magenta sat browsing through a magazine under the shade of a sun umbrella at the poolside, while Theo paddled in the little inflatable pool that Simon had filled with water. It had been another purchase by Andreas last week, for his son to use at the house in case his parents couldn’t be with him in the main pool.

Later, when his flight had been delayed and he’d called to say he wasn’t sure whether he was going to be able to make it back by that evening, Magenta showered and changed from her jeans and T-shirt into a simple white sundress as the day was still so warm. After letting Theo watch one of his early evening kiddies’ programmes, she decided to put him to bed.