As they stood in silence, the only noise was the welcoming crackle of the fire as the shadows began to dance around the room. It was only too easy for Saskia to imagine whiling away the rest of her pregnancy here.
He ushered her into the room, taking such tender care of her, before crossing the floor to throw himself into a generous wingback chair, whilst she weighed up the merits of the rest of the seating.
The window seats would afford her a good view, but the wingback chair that matched Malachi’s was closer to that inviting fire. So she made her way over and there they sat, in companionable silence, until Imelda brought their drinks, along with some homemade biscuits, still warm from the oven. The older woman fussed over her, ensuring she was comfortable and pain-free, all the while bossing Malachi about and making certain that he was taking care of Saskia.
‘She treats you more like a son than an employer,’ Saskia said, smiling, when Imelda left the room at last, finally satisfied that her new patient was as comfortable as she could possibly be.
‘In many ways she’s the mother I never had,’ Malachi answered—then stopped sharply, as though he hadn’t intended to say anything at all.
‘She obviously cares about you a great deal,’ she ventured, then waited, hoping that he would say more.
Her heart flip-flopped madly. She knew he had set up the Care to Play charity because she’d met him at the ball, and judging by his close relationship with families like Izzy and Michelle she knew he was more than just financially invested. But Malachi, like his brother, Sol, was such a closed book that those few details were the sum of her knowledge.
It was all Saskia could do not to fall on this new scrap of information as if it was an oasis in the desert and she was a dying woman. But inside she was aching to know more. To understand what made Malachi who he was. To learn what drove him on.
Clearly he didn’t intend to elaborate, and she tried not to feel hurt that, even after everything they’d been through with their own little miracle, he still didn’t trust her enough to want to open up to her.
It ought to be the wake-up call she needed to remember to keep her guard up where Malachi Gunn was concerned. It was futile to keep wanting—imagining—more with him. In his eyes, their agreement was nothing more than the extension of a business agreement.
S
he forced herself to take a mouthful of the delicious biscuit. Then another. Anything but give in to the temptation to ask him more about himself and risk him shutting down on her.
But eventually the silence got to her. ‘How long are you going to stay?’ Saskia spoke at last, when they were alone again.
Really, after Imelda’s comments about the future Mrs Gunn, there was only one question Saskia wanted to ask, but she feared it would start an argument and she didn’t want that. Not when they’d only just arrived.
‘I’m here to make sure you and the baby recuperate.’
Not exactly the answer she had been looking for.
‘What about work?’ she tried instead. ‘How will you keep up to date?’
‘What makes you think I’ll be working?’
‘Because you’re a workaholic. You’ll go crazy being here for too long and not overseeing your business.’
His lips pulled into a crooked smile, as if he was conceding her point. ‘I can email...do video conferences.’
‘It’s beautiful here. I can see why you would enjoy bringing lots of people to see it.’
‘Are you fishing, Saskia?’ he asked mildly. ‘Because I can tell you it isn’t one of your more attractive qualities.’
Had she been fishing? She hadn’t intended to, but she supposed it was a possibility. Was she here because she was the mother of his baby—someone special—or did he bring many of his ‘dates’—for want of a better term—to his private castello?
She discreetly released her grip on the arms of her chair, but it was too much to hope Malachi wouldn’t notice. His sharp eyes missed nothing. But she was surprised when he answered.
‘I don’t make it a habit of bringing people here, no. In fact, you are the only person, other than Sol, I have ever brought here. But you shouldn’t read too much into that.’
Her heart jolted. She fought to remain passive. To remind herself that it wasn’t really about her at all.
‘Because I’m pregnant with your child?’ she asserted quietly.
He didn’t reply but he did incline his head, if only a fraction. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed.
‘Is that why you brought me here, Malachi? Because of the baby and so that I could rest? Or to further the notion that you had back in the UK that I would marry you?’
He eyed her neutrally, giving nothing away. It caused a thread of irritation to weave its way through her.