Just Kate: His Only Wife (Bestselling Author Collection) (7 page)

Until that moment Kate hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to see and hold this child. With a cry of joy, she enfolded the little boy in a hug, which he bore stoically, and then ruffled his golden hair. “Am I ever glad to see you,” she said. “Where’s your dad?”

Gil pointed one finger toward the elevators. “He’s gone to get a newspaper,” he said.

Kate appreciated Sean’s attempt to give her a few minutes alone with his son. She just wished they’d called first, so she would have had time to dress.

Gil sat on the bed while she dashed into the bathroom to put on jeans and a turquoise pullover shirt. She was barefoot, both hands engaged in working her hair into a French braid, when she came out.

“You don’t look anything like the pictures of Mom,” Gil observed, watching Kate with quizzical eyes.

Of course, he would have been too little to remember Abby. A momentary sadness overtook Kate. “Your grandfather Blake used to call her his Christmas-tree angel,” she said.

“What did he call you?” Gil asked with genuine interest, and Kate realized for the first time that her father had never given her an affectionate nickname. He called her Kate if he was pleased with her and Katherine if he wasn’t.

“Just Kate,” she said.

“Dad calls you Katie-did,” Gil announced. This time Kate noticed that several teeth were missing from the endearing grin.

She searched her mind for something to say to a little boy. “Do you like to play baseball?”

Gil squinted, then shook his head. “Football,” he said. “And cricket.”

There was a light rap at the door, and Kate went to open it. When she saw Sean standing there, tall and handsome in his jeans, polo shirt and windbreaker, her heart skipped and her breath swelled in her throat.

“Hi,” she finally managed to say.

His green eyes danced. “Hello, love,” he responded. “May I come in?”

Kate remembered herself and stepped back. “Sure,” she said, feeling like an adolescent.

“We woke her up,” Gil commented, from his seat on the edge of Kate’s crumpled bed.

Sean’s gaze was as soft as a caress. “Sorry.”

Kate bit her lower lip. “It’s all right,” she replied lamely.

Sean smiled at her nervousness. “Get your bags packed, Katie-did, and we’ll take you out of here. Plenty of room at our place.”

Kate hesitated. Seeing Sean again, she knew she hadn’t really dealt with her feelings for him at all. It would be so easy to be wanton. “I...I wouldn’t want to impose,” she said quickly. “I mean, I can just as well stay here.”

Gil looked so crestfallen that Kate went to sit beside him on the bed. She draped an arm around his shoulders. “What’s this? A sad face when I’ve just come all the way from America to see you?”

“Let’s take your aunt Kate out for some breakfast,” Sean suggested quickly. He looked as disappointed as Gil.

Since it was drizzling, Kate took her raincoat. They left the hotel and walked through the clean, modern streets to a small coffee shop that Sean seemed to know.

A hearty breakfast made Kate feel better—and more adventurous. “Maybe I could stay with you for a little while,” she said to Gil, “if you’re sure I won’t be intruding.”

Gil’s coffee-brown eyes were alight. “I’ll show you my dog, Snidely,” he exclaimed, beaming. “He can roll over and play dead.”

“I’m very impressed,” Kate told him. “What else can he do?”

Gil’s expression turned sheepish. “Not much else, besides chew shoes and make messes in the garden.”

Kate laughed. “He sounds like a regular dog to me.”

“Except for Georgie Renfrew, he’s my best mate,” Gil said.

Sean winked at Kate from behind the rim of his coffee cup, and she was absurdly pleased, as though he’d made some grand gesture.

They left the coffee shop several minutes later, and Kate held Gil’s hand as they walked back to her hotel. There, she packed her things and then checked out. She, Sean and Gil took a cab to Sean’s house in an elegant section of Sydney.

It was as wonderful as Kate remembered, with a view of the harbor and the Opera House, and her room was a small suite, with its own bath and a real wood-burning fireplace. The carpets were a pale blue, the bedspread was a complementary floral print, and there was even a small balcony outside.

“It’s beautiful,” Kate told Sean softly, but she was already regretting her decision to stay in this house. The place had belonged to Abby first, just as the man had, and Kate felt like an intruder.

Sean touched the tip of her nose. “I see ghosts in your eyes. What’s the problem, Katie-did?”

Kate bit her lower lip and turned away. In the distance she could hear a dog barking with unbounded glee. Evidently Snidely and Gil had been reunited. “I’m just a little tired, I guess,” she lied.

Gently Sean turned her to face him. “And feeling just a little guilty, I think.”

Kate nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Before Sean could say anything more, Gil bounded in with a huge, hairy dog of some indeterminate breed.

“This is Snidely,” he said, glowing with pride.

Snidely offered a yelp in greeting and then rolled over on his side to lie completely still. Kate supposed he was playing dead.

“Good dog,” she said to please Gil.

“Take him outside before Mrs. Manchester sees him,” Sean ordered.

Reluctantly Gil led the animal out of Kate’s room.

Sean traced the outline of Kate’s cheek with one index finger. “We’ll talk later, love, when you’re settled in and rested.”

Kate nodded.

Sean bent his head and kissed her lightly on the lips, and Kate was almost knocked off her feet by the jolt that passed between them. In that moment she would have given her soul to lie beneath Sean, to share her body with him.

But he left her standing in the middle of that beautifully decorated room, listening to the patter of winter rain against the windows.

Kate was curled up in a chair, reading a paperback she’d brought with her on the plane, when the housekeeper rapped at the half-open door and stepped inside the room. Mrs. Manchester was a heavily built woman with friendly blue eyes and salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a loose chignon. She smiled at Kate and went to the hearth to build a fire.

“Nothing like a cheery blaze on a wet day,” she commented, dusting her hands together and looking back at Kate as the fire crackled to life. “Would you like some tea, miss?”

Kate shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said, and an unexpected yawn escaped with the words.

“Seems to me you might want to lie down and take a nap,” Mrs. Manchester observed. “Traveling so far takes such a lot out of a person.”

The bed did look comfortable, and the dancing flames on the hearth gave Kate a cozy, protected feeling. “I think you’re right,” she said, and kicking off her shoes, she crossed the room to stretch out on the bed.

Mrs. Manchester kindly covered her with a beautiful knitted afghan and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

Kate drifted off to sleep and dreamed of a campfire under a sky ablaze with silver stars. There, in that imaginary world, Sean lay beside her, his hand on her breast. She whimpered and stretched, wanting more of his touch.

“Kate.” His voice penetrated her dream, low and husky.

She stretched again, still asleep, still needing.

She felt his fingers at the buttons of her shirt. Cool air whispered over her skin as he took away her bra. The feel of his mouth on her hardened nipple brought her awake with a start.

Although Sean was in the room, he was standing by the fireplace, and Kate was still fully dressed. Her disappointment was keen.

“That must have been a pretty erotic dream,” he said, throwing another log on the fire before approaching the bed.

Kate blushed in the relative darkness of the room, but her words were bold. “It was. You were making love to me beside a campfire.”

“Rest assured, Katie-did,” he said, bending to kiss her forehead, “I’m not about to make love to you.”

Kate glared up at him. “Why not?” she asked, insulted.

“Because the guilt would eat you alive,” Sean answered. “For you at least, there would be three of us in the room—you, me and Abby.”

Kate closed her eyes. As much as she wanted to cry out that he was wrong, she knew he wasn’t. She tossed back the afghan and sat up.

“Mrs. Manchester made tea,” Sean said, indicating a wheeled cart sitting beside the fireplace.

Apparently they were going to pretend they hadn’t discussed sex. Kate smoothed her hair and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. When she came out, she had recovered her dignity.

She sat down in one of the two wing chairs facing the hearth and poured tea from a small china pot into a matching cup. There were strawberry scones, too, and various cookies she knew Sean would refer to as biscuits. Kate took a raspberry scone, even though she normally didn’t eat sugary foods.

Sean was leaning against the fireplace mantle, watching Kate as though she were a complex puzzle. “Why are you here?” he asked.

Kate took a sip of strong tea before answering, “I wanted to see Gil, of course.”

“If that were all of it, you’d have been here a long time before now.”

Avoiding his gaze, Kate reached for a cookie. The man made her nervous, and when she was nervous, she ate. She shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m looking for myself,” she replied. Her indigo eyes rose of their own accord to his face. “You were the one who said I needed a life of my own.”

Sean poured tea into the second cup, added generous doses of sugar and milk and sat down in the chair across from Kate’s. “Are you serious about that?”

Kate nodded. “I turned thirty a few days back, Sean, and look at me. I’ve never been married, never borne a child, never even worked at a real job that I landed on my own.”

“And now you’re out for an adventure?”

Kate considered for a moment. “Something like that.”

Sean set his teacup down in its saucer. Even in the firelight Kate could see the mischief dancing in his eyes. “I think I can provide you with one of those,” he said.

Before Kate could think of a response, Gil burst into the room with Snidely loping at his heels. “Mrs. Manchester’s gone out to see her sister,” he explained, “so I brought Snidely inside straight away.” He glanced at the scones and biscuits.

“Have one,” Kate said, watching him with delight.

Gil hesitated, looking to his father for permission. Sean must have given it silently, for the boy closed one grubby hand around a scone. After saying thank you and breaking off a small piece for Snidely, he ate hungrily.

“Are you going back to America soon?” the child asked when he’d disposed of the scone.

“I don’t think so,” Kate said, wondering if Gil was anxious for her to leave. She was probably disrupting some planned excursion with her unexpected visit.

“I hope you stay a long time,” Gil responded. “You’re not scared of Snidely and you don’t go ’round saying he smells. I like that in a woman.”

“It’s certainly a trait I always look for,” Sean agreed, deadpan.

Kate laughed and rumpled Gil’s hair. “Well, I happen to like a discerning gentleman,” she said.

“We’ll try to dig one up for you,” Sean replied.

Snidely was following his own tail in an endless circle. Outside, the winter rain drizzled against the windows, and the fire crackled on the hearth. Kate wanted to stay in that room with Gil and Sean forever.

As it happened, though, Sean rose out of his chair and said, “We’ll leave you to yourself for a while. Dinner’s in a couple of hours.”

Kate wondered if she was supposed to dress up. It didn’t seem likely that dinner would be formal when Mrs. Manchester was out of the house.

Feeling rumpled from her nap, she took a long, hot shower. Then, not knowing what was expected of her, she got into a striped dress in shades of pink and a pair of sandals. She wore her dark hair down and applied a small amount of makeup.

Sean’s eyes lit up when she walked into the living room. He was wearing black pants and a beautiful cable-knit sweater, and his dark hair caught the light of the fire.

“Now I’m sorry we’re having dinner at home,” he teased, deliberately intensifying his accent. “I could make all me mates jealous if I showed you off.”

Kate laughed, but his words pleased her. It had been a long time since she’d felt so attractive.

Sean offered white wine, and she nodded. When he brought her the glass, she asked, “Where’s Gil?”

“He’ll be along when he’s done dressing. He had a bath—and Snidely got into the tub with him.”

Kate laughed again at the picture that came to her mind, and then took a long sip of her wine because she felt so nervous inside. It was as though she’d regressed from thirty years of age to thirteen, and she couldn’t for the life of her think of anything intelligent to say. She followed the sip with a gulp.

Sean was just about to say something when Gil bounded into the room, looking scrubbed and handsome in pants and a white shirt. “May I stay home tomorrow and look after Kate?” he asked with a hopeful lilt in his voice.

“Actually, no,” Sean responded immediately.

Gil’s disappointment was only momentary. After an instant, he was smiling broadly again. “Well,” he said, “if you’re going to be that way about it—”

“I am,” Sean assured him.

Watching her nephew, Kate was thinking how much her parents would enjoy knowing him. She made a mental note to approach Sean, when the right moment arrived, about letting the boy visit.

The three had a simple dinner of meat pies and salad left behind by the very efficient Mrs. Manchester, and then Gil went off to do his homework. The next day was Monday, and school would be back in session.

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked you before, Kate—how’s your father?” Sean asked as they sat at a small table in a glass alcove, watching the rain fall.

“He’s getting better every day,” she answered. She studied Sean, wondering if she dared mention the possibility of a visit from Gil in the same sentence with her father. She decided against it. “I called home as soon as I arrived at the hotel, and Mother said he was almost ready to go back to Washington.”