The Aristocrat and the Single Mum. Michelle Douglas

sincerity rang out in the quietness of her tone, and in the simplicity of her claim. ‘Marrying Danny is the one good thing I’ve managed to do with my life.’

      ‘Okay, okay.’ Kate nodded although she knew Felice couldn’t see her. ‘But will you at least do one thing for me? Will you speak to Simon and tell him you’re fine?’

      ‘I don’t want to speak to him.’

      Kate had never heard that stubborn note in Felice’s voice before. ‘Please?’ She held her breath.

      ‘He’ll make me hang up on him,’ Felice warned.

      She let out her breath. ‘Nevertheless…’

      ‘Will you promise to call me back when he’s not watching over you like a guard dog?’

      It was another apt description.

      ‘Please, Kate?’

      She bit back a sigh. ‘Deal,’ she said. Then she handed the phone across to Simon. ‘Be nice,’ she ordered.

      He held it to his ear. ‘Felice? Thank God! Are you all right?’ He listened for a moment and his brow darkened. ‘What the hell are you playing at? I’ve—’

      He broke off and held the phone away from his ear. Kate wanted to tell him he wasn’t doing a very good job at being nice.

      He slammed the phone back to his ear. ‘I’ve been out of my wits with worry!’ His teeth clenched for a moment. ‘Out with it, then,’ he ordered, unclenching said teeth. ‘What kind of trouble have you managed to get yourself into this time?’

      In fact, he was doing a really bad job of being nice. She had a sudden flash of empathy for Felice. Felice, who was so full of life and laughter…and love.

      ‘What do you mean, it’s none of my business? I—’

      Kate took a sip of her coffee and watched him. He had that over-protective big brother thing down pat. She wondered if she’d ever smothered Danny like that.

      There was only five years’ difference between her and Danny, though. There was ten years between Simon and Felice. Ten years. That was a lot.

      ‘Then why the hell haven’t you called?’

      She set her coffee back down at that. Good question.

      ‘You could’ve at least had the common decency—’

      His free hand—the one not holding the phone—curved into a fist. ‘Of course it’s my business. I—’

      The fist started to bounce on the table. ‘That’s rubbish and you know it. I—’

      He broke off to stare at the phone. He shook it, then put it back to his ear. ‘Hello?’ Then he turned to Kate. ‘She hung up on me.’

      ‘Of course she did.’ Kate reached across and plucked her mobile from his fingers. ‘I don’t blame her.’

      He scowled. ‘You don’t—’

      ‘I told you to be nice. You weren’t nice. You were bossy and…stuffy.’

      He scowled some more. Then he slumped back in his chair, defeat outlined in the shape of his shoulders. ‘Where is she? I’m not leaving Australia until I at least clap eyes on her.’

      ‘Oh, right,’ Kate mocked gently. ‘Are you trying to tell me you’ll be happy to see her in the distance, see that she’s all in one piece and then leave again? I don’t think so. You’re itching to haul her over the coals for some imagined misdemeanour. For heaven’s sake, she’s twenty-two years old. Old enough to make her own decisions. Old enough to lead her own life.’

      ‘You don’t know her.’ He drained his coffee in one gulp.

      ‘I beg to differ. She’s just spent the last three months living in my house, working for my business.’

      His brows drew down low over his eyes. The corners of his mouth tightened. ‘You don’t know her like I do.’

      ‘I’ll grant you that. But you’ve got to stop treating her like she’s twelve years old or you’ll turn around one day and find out she really has done something stupid.’

      His head swung up. ‘Like what?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ She lifted a hand and tried to pluck an example from the air. ‘Like getting in with some hard and fast party crowd and taking recreational drugs or something. Just so she can prove to you she’s all grown up.’

      Panic raced across his face. She rushed to reassure him. ‘Not that she has, you understand. I’ve never seen Felice take anything stronger than a glass of Chardonnay.’

      He slumped back.

      ‘But if you don’t back off you could drive her to something awful and then, when she really needs you, she may not feel able to come to you.’

      He dragged a hand down his face. ‘The voice of experience speaketh?’ he finally intoned. ‘She said we made a good pair, didn’t she?’

      ‘Accused, more like.’ Kate traced a finger around the rim of her coffee mug, gathered up coffee froth and popped it in her mouth. Simon’s eyes narrowed as he watched her and she hastily pulled the finger away and clutched it in her lap. ‘My father died eight years ago when I was twenty. My brother Danny was only fifteen.’

      ‘Your mother?’

      ‘She left when I was six.’

      ‘So, basically, you raised your brother.’

      It didn’t sound like a question so she didn’t bother answering it. ‘Danny and I have had our moments, but he’s only five years younger than me. It has probably been easier for me to accept that he’s grown up and capable of making his own decisions.’

      ‘Plus he’s male. Men can look after themselves.’

      ‘That’s a particularly sexist view of the world.’

      He shrugged, then leaned forward. ‘Do you know how much Felice is worth? How much she’ll inherit when she turns twenty-five?’

      He named a sum that had her choking, ‘What?’

      He sat back and glared. ‘So you can see why I’m concerned she doesn’t do something stupid.’

      ‘Like?’

      His mouth grew grim. ‘There’s a lot of men out there who’d like to get hold of her fortune. I won’t let her marry a fortune hunter.’

      And then it all made crystal-clear sense to Kate—why Felice hadn’t told them about her family, her fortune. She’d wanted them to love her for herself. Kate suddenly wanted to cry. She hoped Felice realised that they did love her for herself.

      Something else struck her with equal force. When Simon heard about Felice’s marriage to Danny, he would not share their—or her—joy.

      He may well go ballistic.

      He may well say unforgivable things.

      Kate wanted to drop her head to the table and groan, but Simon was watching her with that direct grey gaze, so she couldn’t.

      ‘Where is she?’

      The question didn’t surprise her. She lifted her mug and drank the last of her coffee. This time she didn’t taste it either. ‘I don’t know.’ She set the mug back on the table.

      ‘I don’t believe you.’

      ‘That can’t be helped. I guess it’s even fair enough, because even if I did know where she’s staying, I wouldn’t tell you.’

      His mouth turned grim then. His nostrils flared. ‘So that’s that then, is it?’

      ‘I’m afraid so.’ A sigh of regret stole through her. ‘I’m sorry, Simon,