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Nicolas pulled the SUV into the curb outside the school’s front gate, and stared up at the ancient sign, which said it had been established in 1870. The old school was made of wood, a rectangular building with a highpitched roof and a north-facing verandah that had pegs on the wall where the children could hang their hats and school bags. There’d only been four classrooms when he’d gone to school there, with composite classes the order of the day.
Admittedly, he’d only attended Rocky Creek primary for one year, but he hadn’t been happy there. He’d still been sulking because of their move from Sydney and he hadn’t yet discovered the joys of the piano. He recalled going on a hunger strike at one stage, giving all his food to a very grateful Gus. When no one appeared to care whether he starved or not, he started eating again.
Nicolas was not one to bash his head against a brick wall for long. Once reality sank into his head, he accepted it and moved on. Which was probably why he hadn’t pursued Serina those two times she’d rejected him. He’d actually believed her when she’d said she didn’t want him. Believed there was no point in going after her. Pride hadn’t been the only issue.
But there was wanting and wanting. Her love for him had obviously been found wanting. But what of her lust?
The speed with which she bolted out of the SUV once he’d stopped suggested she hadn’t enjoyed being alone with him in a confined space.
‘You might as well leave your bag behind,’ he suggested as he climbed out from behind the wheel and slammed the door. ‘We’re going to lunch together shortly, remember?’
Her body language showed extreme irritation with him. She clutched the bag even more tightly in her right hand and threw him what could only be described as a wintry look. ‘I don’t recall agreeing to do any such thing.’
The possibility of her not even going to lunch with him did not sit well with Nicolas. ‘It will look odd, if you don’t. Emma and Allie won’t be pleased. Neither will Felicity. What are you afraid of, Serina? That I’ll throw you across the restaurant table and have my wicked way with you right in front of everyone?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped. ‘I’m well aware that the days of my being your sexual cup of tea are long gone. This way,’ she said coldly, and marched off through the front gate and along a path that led past the old school and across to an L-shaped cream brick building sitting where the playground had once been.
An increasingly frustrated Nicolas stalked after her, grudgingly noting that the surrounds of the new Rocky Creek primary school were a credit to the P & C. Covered walkways ran everywhere, protecting the children from rain as well as the hot summer sun. The gardens and lawns were both immaculate and alive, obviously having an excellent watering system.
‘Very nice landscaping,’ he remarked.
‘Gus’s money also pays for a gardener,’ she said.
‘Good old Gus.’
‘There’s no need to be sarcastic!’
‘I wasn’t,’ Nicolas denied, although he recognised his mood had shifted to a darker place, that place where he was propelled when things didn’t go his way, or when he looked like he was failing at something.
Serina stopped walking and whirled to face him, her dark eyes stormy. ‘Look, I know what you think of Rocky Creek. It’s written all over your supercilious face. No matter how much the town’s progressed, you still think of it as a backwater with nothing here to interest you. Which is absolutely true. We don’t have an opera house or theatres galore, or mansions full of the rich and famous who hold dinner parties every day of the week. We don’t have expensive art galleries, museums or designer boutiques. We certainly don’t have super highways where you can drive at two hundred kilometres an hour in your two-hundred-thousand-dollar sports cars. What we do have, however, is people who care about each other. People who are loving and loyal, people who look after each other when times are tough and who are prepared to make sacrifices. Who don’t always think of their own selfish selves!’
Nicolas stood there, stunned by the savagery of Serina’s tirade.
She seemed a little stunned herself. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last, if a little grudgingly. ‘I guess that was rude of me. The thing is, Nicolas, I just don’t understand why you agreed to come all this way for a silly little talent quest. Other than your brief visit when your mum died, you haven’t darkened the doorstep of Rocky Creek for over twenty years!’
He looked deep into her eyes and ached to tell her the truth.
I came because I still want you, Serina. Because I wanted to make love to you again. I came because I just couldn’t stay away, not once I knew you weren’t married anymore.
But it wasn’t the right time, or the right place. It might never be the right time, or the right place, he realised grimly. Not if she felt this viciously about him.
‘I came,’ he said instead, quite truthfully as well, ‘because of your daughter’s very touching letter.’
And, right on cue, Felicity came flying down the path towards them.
Nicolas knew she was Felicity because it was like seeing Serina at that age, so great was the resemblance.
‘You’re here!’ Felicity squealed as only a twelve-year-old girl can squeal. She didn’t stop there, either, literally throwing herself against him so hard that he lurched backwards a step.
‘Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!’ she blurted, hugging him tightly around the waist before abruptly disengaging herself and throwing him a sheepish look from under her long lashes. ‘Sorry. I get a bit carried away sometimes. Don’t I, Mum… ?’
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_a7baa3c9-7e63-5fcd-b99f-4fc2e48977ac)
SERINA would have loved to turn tail and run at that point. It had already been getting to be too much for her, seeing Nicolas again. That had been why she’d let fly at him just now, because she’d needed some outlet for the tension building inside her.
Serina had expected today to be difficult. And she’d been right. But nothing had prepared her for what she’d just witnessed.
Seeing her daughter hug her biological father had produced a mixture of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Perversely, she almost felt jealous of Felicity. How she would love to hug Nicolas with such unashamed delight! At the same time a great wave of guilt twisted at her insides. She should never have passed Felicity off as Greg’s daughter. Never! She should have told the truth from the start. Instead, she’d locked herself into a secret that was going to crucify her now till her dying days.
Because she’d seen the flash of joy in Nicolas’s face when his daughter had wrapped her arms tightly around him, seen the gently indulgent way he’d smiled down at her. He was still smiling at her.
The unexpected realisation that Nicolas might have been a good father to Felicity was shattering.
But it was too late now. It had been too late from the moment she’d walked down that church aisle with Greg all those years ago. Her secret had to continue. Because in Felicity’s mind, Greg Harmon was her father, not Nicolas. She’d loved Greg, and she loved Greg’s parents—they were her adored Nanna and Pop. No, the secret had to be kept.
She had to pull herself together and not act like some guilt-ridden, broken-hearted fool, even if what she wanted to do was fall in a crumpled heap on this path and cry.
Amazing what a mother could endure when faced with the possibility of her child’s unhappiness. So Serina found a smile from somewhere and a voice that sounded close to normal.
‘There’s nothing wrong with being enthusiastic, Felicity,’ she said. ‘But it might be wise not to be too familiar with Mr Dupre. Otherwise people might say there’s favouritism if you come first in the talent quest tomorrow night.’
Too late Serina wished she hadn’t brought up that subject.
‘I’ve already thought of that,’ Felicity returned. ‘So I’ve decided not to enter.’
‘I think that’s a wise decision,’ Serina said, hiding her relief behind a genuinely warm smile.
‘But I was looking forward to hearing you play,’ Nicolas protested.
‘Oh, you’ll still hear me play,’ Felicity informed him quite happily. ‘I’m giving a special performance at the end of the talent quest. I don’t want to tell you too much except that it’s a tribute to a certain concert pianist who sadly can’t play anymore.’
Serina smothered a groan of despair. Not only was Felicity going to play for him, but she was also sure to choose one of Nicolas’s favourites, maybe even the Chopin Polonaise both of them had heard him play on the Internet. If today was proving difficult, tomorrow loomed as a nightmare!
‘Come on, Nicolas,’ Felicity said. ‘It’s time for you to meet everyone else.’
‘Felicity!’ Serina protested. ‘You shouldn’t be using Mr Dupre’s first name.’
‘It’s perfectly all right, Serina,’ Nicolas remarked.
‘No, it’s not,’ Serina protested. ‘It is my job to teach my daughter respect for her elders.’
‘In that case she can call Mrs Johnson, Mrs Johnson,’ Nicolas shot back, his face irritated. ‘I’m not yet forty and don’t consider myself an elder just yet. So if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to be called Nicolas. Lead on, Felicity, my dear,’ he concluded, and actually took his daughter’s hand.
Felicity beamed with smug satisfaction whilst Serina felt like strangling her. And Nicolas. Perhaps it was a survival mechanism, but suddenly her mood changed from one of distress to a simmering fury. Whereas before she hadn’t been looking forward to having lunch with him, now she was. It would give her the opportunity to say all the things she’d bottled up about him over the years. Her brief tirade of a minute ago was just the tip of the iceberg. There were lots of questions she’d always wanted answered. Specifically why, if he’d loved her so much, he hadn’t come back for her from England all those years ago? Why at least he hadn’t written!
But the critical question was why hadn’t he pursued her after their last extremely passionate encounter. Any man as in love as he’d expressed himself to be that night should have ignored her letter and come after her anyway.
No wonder she’d married Greg!
Clenching her teeth, she trudged up the path after Felicity—and her daughter’s unsuspecting father—and into the school hall, where she pasted a plastic smile on her face and watched with growing resentment whilst Nicolas charmed the socks off everyone there.
There were lots of people in the hall that morning. All the teachers, all of the mothers who didn’t work, a few husbands who’d taken time off to help put all the plastic chairs in rows and quite a number of children. Serina might have marvelled at Nicolas’s social skills if she hadn’t already witnessed him in action back at the office. He hadn’t always been Mister Warmth and Charm. But there was no doubt he’d learned how to deal with people over the years. He was smooth, very smooth.
He’d been smooth during that television interview a couple of years back, she recalled. But that wasn’t the same as seeing him in action in the flesh. In no time he had everyone eating out of his hands. Felicity, especially.
‘Isn’t he awesome, Mum?’ she gushed at one stage when Nicolas was off to one side, chatting with the principal. ‘And so good-looking. Do you think he has a girlfriend back in New York?’
‘I would imagine so,’ Serina said, surprised that this thought hadn’t entered her mind earlier. Surprised, too, at the hurt it brought.
‘Probably that Japanese violinist,’ Felicity went on, blissfully unaware of her mother’s agitation. ‘She’s very pretty. I’ll ask him.’
‘Don’t you dare!’Serina snapped. ‘That would be very rude.’
‘Oh. Do you think so? Well you could ask him, Mum. Later, when you’re at lunch together.’
Serina rolled her eyes. ‘Who told you I was going to lunch with him?’
‘Nicolas did. Just now.’
‘I see,’she said with an exasperated sigh. ‘I suppose I might be able to find out. But why on earth do you want to know?’
Felicity’s expression turned a little sly. ‘Well, I was thinking that if he didn’t have a girlfriend, then you and he might… you know… get together again. I mean… you were once boyfriend and girlfriend.’
‘For pity’s sake, Felicity, how many times do I have to tell you that we only dated a few times!’
‘That’s not what Mrs Johnson said. She told me you were as thick as thieves in the old days. And Nana said you cried for weeks after he went to London to study.’
‘You know, Felicity, you shouldn’t listen to small-town gossip. Nicolas and I were just good friends, like I told you. We were not romantically involved. As for my crying when he went overseas, Mum’s mistaken about that entirely. It was around that time that your grandpa had his stroke and I was very upset. My crying had nothing to do with Nicolas leaving Rocky Creek. You’ve got it all wrong, missy. So please don’t try to do what those two silly girls in my office are doing and matchmake me up with every eligible man who happens to cross my path. I loved your father very much and I don’t wish to date, or get married again, especially not to Nicolas Dupre. Do I make myself clear?’
Felicity had the good grace to hang her head at this dressing down. Unfortunately, this allowed Serina a direct view over the top of her daughter’s drooped head right into Nicolas’s piercing blue eyes.
‘I’m all finished here,’ he said, his facial expression bland.
Hopefully, he hadn’t heard that last, rather savage remark. But Serina suspected that he had.
‘Mr Tarleton said I was to be here tomorrow at one-thirty,’ Nicolas went on crisply. ‘Is that early enough, Felicity?’
‘Heaps early enough. The talent quest doesn’t start till two. You’ll stay for the party afterwards, won’t you?’
‘Of course. Now I’m off to take your mother to lunch. We’re going to spend the afternoon in Port Macquarie, catching up on old times.’
Serina flashed him a sour glance before smiling at her daughter. ‘I’ll be home no later than four, sweetie,’ she said. ‘Will you be finished setting up the hall by then?’
‘Oh, yes. Easily. We’re almost done now. But Kirsty wants to rehearse her acts for tomorrow. I’m going to practise as well. One of the pieces I’ve chosen to play is really hard.’
‘You’re making me very curious over what you’re going to play,’ Nicolas said.
Felicity looked smug. ‘Sorry. Can’t tell. And you’re not to tell him, either, Mum.’
‘How can I when I don’t know myself?’ Serina replied somewhat starchily.
‘That’s good,’ Felicity said with a brilliant smile. ‘’Bye now. See you when you get home.’ And she ran off to join her friends.
‘I suspect you do know what she’s going to play,’ Nicolas said as he clamped a firm hand around her right elbow and started steering her towards the side door. ‘And you’re not happy about it for some reason. The same way you’re not happy about my returning to Rocky Creek.’
‘I see no reason why I should be happy?’ she retorted once they were outside and out of earshot of other people.
‘Maybe not,’he bit out. ‘But there’s no reason why it should overly bother you, either. There’s no husband to object to our reunion. Or any new boyfriend, from what I just overheard.’
Serina wrenched out of his hold and ground to a halt. ‘Our reunion?’ She glared up into his eyes. ‘We are not having any kind of reunion here. If I had my way we wouldn’t even be having lunch together. But you manipulated things so that I couldn’t say no without being rude. As for catching up on old times… don’t go thinking that’s ever going to happen, Nicolas Dupre. I wouldn’t let you touch me again if you were the last man on earth!’
Serina knew the second that last statement fell out of her mouth that she’d gone too far. Way too far.
A cruel smile began at the corners of his eyes. His coldly glittering blue eyes.
‘I’ll remind you what you just said later today. But for now, I would suggest that you shut that beautiful mouth of yours. Because whilst you might not want to date me ever again, or God forbid, marry me, I’m pretty sure you do want to go to bed with me. In fact, I’m absolutely certain of it.’
Serina’s mouth gasped open. She was on the verge of hotly denying his arrogant statement—despite it being appallingly true—when she spotted a couple of the mothers standing at one of the school hall windows, staring over at them. The time to do battle was not right now, she quickly appreciated, and snapped her gaping mouth shut.
‘Glad to see you’ve finally found some common sense,’ he ground out. ‘And some honesty. Let’s go.’And taking forceful possession of her elbow once more, he propelled her along the path that led them past the old school and back to the parked SUV…
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_86471544-7fc6-5e52-b093-e72f03a488a4)
NICOLAS knew—as one always knew deep down—that he’d just crossed a line; that line that you didn’t step over if you were a gentleman.
But then he’d never been a gentleman. And he never would be one, despite having smoothed away most of his rough edges over the years. He spoke like a gentlemen these days and dressed like one. His town house in London was the home of a gentleman. His NewYork apartment, however, reeked of new money, the kind made by men who hadn’t been born rich, but who’d made it in the world by talent and tenacity. Men who were winners, men who knew what they wanted and went after it.
What he’d just said to Serina had been provocative in the extreme, provocative and presumptuous.And risky. By speaking up so boldly, he’d ruined any chance of a romantic seduction.
But in that moment before she’d been able to hide the truth, when her body and mind had still been reeling from the shock of his words, he’d glimpsed her ongoing sexual vulnerability to him. What he’d just said had been right. She did want to go to bed with him.
Serina didn’t say a single word during the short time it took to steer her back to the car. But her body language reeked of rebellion. Nicolas’s own body was consumed by something else… .
Serina snatched her arm away from his hold before climbing up into the SUV and banging the door shut behind her. She refused to look at him as he got in behind the wheel, refused to speak. Instead, she stuffed her handbag at her feet and crossed her arms, glaring balefully out of the passenger window.
‘You’d better put your seat belt on,’ Nicolas advised as he did so himself then started up the engine.
She did so huffily, still not looking his way, Rocky Creek well behind them before her simmering fury found a path to her tongue.
‘I was right all along,’ she blustered, her head finally turning in his direction. ‘You didn’t come back out of kindness, or generosity. You came back for revenge!’
Her accusation produced a startling result, Nicolas’s eyes leaving the road at an inopportune time, since they were on a sharp corner at the time. The left-side wheels slid off the narrow strip of tar, spitting gravel out behind them. The back of the vehicle began to slide, Nicolas swearing as he struggled for control.
The adrenalin of fear and panic had Serina gripping her seat belt whilst visions of their careering off the road and into a steep gully—or the bone-crunching trunk of a gum tree—flashed before her mind.
‘And I was right,’ Nicolas snarled when he finally had them safely back on the road. ‘You’re going to be the death of me one day. I think I’ll find a place to stop before we continue this rather amazing conversation.’
Serina didn’t object. She was still shaking inside when he pulled over into a lay-by and turned off the engine.
