Sharon Kendrick Collection. Sharon Kendrick

ruin Simon’s life into the bargain, does it?’

      His words made her feel like crying. Or rather, one word in particular did. ‘Finished’. Their love affair was ‘finished’.

      This was all most peculiar. She was the one who was supposed to be feeling a sense of triumph right now—with Cormack the distressed and injured party. So why the role-reversal? And why did she feel so empty all of a sudden?

      Had she been holding onto some vague little hope in her heart that the sight of Simon might make Cormack want to try and rekindle their romance?

      Well, she could kiss that hope goodbye.

      For, no matter how well he adapted to being a father, she must never lose sight of the fact that she no longer had any place in Cormack’s life except as the mother of his child.

       CHAPTER SIX

      CORMACK shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his trousers as he subjected Triss to a moody blue stare.

      ‘I’m going now,’ he told her.

      Hope and disappointment warred inside her as she wiped a trace of raspberry juice from one corner of Simon’s delectable rosebud mouth. ‘Going?’ she squeaked loudly.

      His mouth twisted into a parody of a smile. ‘Don’t get carried away with excitement, sweetheart,’ he drawled. He reached out his hand to touch the top of Simon’s dark head lingeringly, and there was something almost wistful about the gesture which tugged relentlessly at Triss’s heartstrings.

      For the first time she got an inkling of just how much she had wounded him by denying him his child. Uncomfortably, she opened her mouth to tell him so. ‘Cormack—’

      ‘I’m going into London to sort out a few things,’ he interrupted brutally. ‘Like bringing my clothes down here, and rescheduling a couple of meetings I had lined up during the week.’

      ‘Oh, please don’t let me stand in the way of your meetings,’ said Triss sarcastically as the horrible way he had spoken to her dissolved some of her feelings of guilt.

      ‘I won’t,’ he returned with cutting emphasis. ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’ He gave her a cold smile. ‘I’m doing it for Simon. And I’ll be back—have no doubt about that, Triss.’

      ‘When?’ she enquired baldly. She plonked Simon’s favourite rattle onto his high-chair tray and followed Cormack out of the kitchen.

      ‘Tonight.’ His answer was just as blunt.

      ‘Tonight?’ Triss wrinkled up her nose, then gave him a pleading look, unable to stop her gaze from slowly roving over the length of that delicious body. How she wished that he would move those gorgeous legs out of her line of vision! They reminded her of things she would much rather forget—like her stupid and impetuous behaviour back at the cottage.

      Had she really just fallen into bed with him again? How could she have done—especially after what had happened last time? She was seriously beginning to wonder if there was any hope for her where Cormack Casey was concerned.

      ‘But why tonight?’ she appealed. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to leave it until tomorrow, when we’ve all had a decent night’s sleep?’

      ‘Better for who?’ he demanded, in a voice which had all the gritty texture and coldness of iron shavings. ‘Certainly not for me, nor for Simon. It might be better for you, sure. Does it interfere with prior commitments, Triss? Maybe you’ve got a heavy date you can’t break?’

      ‘If you’re going to continue insulting me by making completely spurious claims about my sex life, then—’

      ‘Then what?’ he interrupted unsmilingly. ‘Then you’ll attempt to behave even more ruthlessly towards me? What’s next on your agenda, Triss? To grant me a fleeting glimpse of my son and then to take him right out of my life again?’

      She shook her head, shocked—naively, perhaps—by the undisguised bitterness in his voice. ‘Of course not.’

      His mouth tightened into a forbidding line. ‘But there’s no “of course” about it, is there? You spent nine months carrying my child without even bothering to tell me, and when he was born you chose not to inform me of that either. Clearly you must hate me with a passion, Triss.’

      His gaze was very steady, but unmistakable pain glinted in the azure eyes as he asked, ‘Did I really treat you so badly that my behaviour warranted such callous treatment?’

      He could be very persuasive—she had forgotten just how much. But she had not made those heartbreaking decisions about Simon for the good of her health. And while Cormack might now be playing the innocent, injured party with the kind of skill which could have guaranteed him a promising career as an actor it was vital that Triss did not forget what had started her out on this course of vengeance.

      ‘Did I, Triss?’ he asked softly, in a honeyed voice she could happily have drowned in. ‘Treat you so badly?’

      Her huge hazel eyes sparked green and gold, like fireworks at the end of a summer party. ‘That’s a question you have to ask yourself, Cormack,’ she told him quietly. ‘Not me.’

      Their eyes met for a long moment before he gave her the benefit of one of his most winning smiles, and Triss. almost reeled under its impact.

      ‘Can I borrow your car?’ he asked, with an unconsciously guileless look which could bring out the maternal instinct in the most hard-bitten and cynical career-woman. Triss knew this for a fact—she had witnessed it on countless occasions.

      ‘What would you do if I said no?’

      He moved closer. Close enough for Triss to be able to detect that enticingly masculine scent of lemon and spice which was all Cormack’s own.

      ‘I’d change your mind for you,’ he informed her softly.

      ‘I’d like to see you try!’

      He smiled. ‘That sounds awfully like an invitation to me, sweetheart. Want to put it to the test?’

      That was just the trouble. She did. And yet she didn’t. She knew damned well from that wickedly hungry look glinting in his blue eyes just what method he would employ to persuade her to lend him her car.

      And if he kissed her now it might prove her complete undoing. She was only just recovering from the episode in bed at the cottage—and, frankly, she was surprised that Cormack had not mentioned it since they had been back. Not once.

      Was that out of consideration for her feelings? Or because he was saving up the memory of her uninhibited sexual response to throw back in her face later?

      His features were just a few tempting inches away.

      ‘Well?’ he murmured, on a throaty caress. ‘Shall we?’

      ‘No, thanks,’ she gulped, and stepped back quickly, as if he had just produced a sword and had begun to brandish it.

      She was treated to a mocking smile.

      ‘Pity,’ was all he murmured as he opened the door and stepped over the threshold, pausing just for a moment. ‘Goodbye, sweetheart,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll be back later.’

      ‘G-goodbye.’

      Triss stumbled back into the kitchen to find that Simon was in the act of smearing yoghurt and raspberries all over the tray of his high chair, and that a good deal of it had made its way into his hair, his ears and all over his blue and white striped dungarees!

      She automatically picked up a roll of kitchen paper, tore off a generous handful and began to wipe the yoghurt off, but her mind was miles away. She scarcely even noticed when Simon leaned forward to lay a trusting but sticky cheek on her breast, depositing a pink, raspberry-scented blob in the process.

      The