“It shows on your face.” He glanced at the dress. “It shows in everything.”
“It isn’t just about Lizzy. It’s about me. I never did these things. I never sat on a beach and tried to eat ice cream before it melted over my fingers, I never pushed my fingers into a heap of flour and made my own pizza base, I never made necklaces out of flowers. Lisa showed me how to make the perfect pirate map. You soak paper in tea, dry it out and then burn the edges.”
He smiled. “So ballerina is definitely off her list.”
“Seems that way.” She put her spoon down. “The thing about kids is that they make you pay attention to the small things. Things that as an adult you rush past on your way to something else.”
“That’s exactly what drove me crazy as a teenager. I wanted to rush past it on my way to something else.”
She nodded. “You were at an age when everything was changing radically. You were trying to work out who you were, and suddenly you were expected to be responsible for other people. That’s scary, but also rewarding. Lizzy’s reading is coming on so fast. Agnes has been reading to her, too. She gave us lots of Rachel’s old books.”
He sat back in his chair, studying her across the table. “Still worried you can’t love her?”
“She’s very easy to love.”
“And that scares you.”
“Yes, but lately I’m doing everything that scares me, so I guess this is just one more thing.”
“You’re an impressive person, Emily Donovan. You took on a child you’d never even met and agreed to live a life you didn’t think you wanted. Most people in your position would have put her in foster care.”
“I don’t think so.” She took a deep breath. “I think most people would have done what I did. Spending time with Lizzy makes me wish I’d tried harder to have a relationship with Lana. I blame myself for that.”
“How was that your fault?”
“I keep wondering whether if the accident hadn’t happened, or if I hadn’t reacted so badly to it, maybe things would have been different. Maybe we would have been closer.”
“Or maybe she was never going to be the sort of person who wanted that.”
Emily thought about her half sister and the uncomfortable similarities to her mother. “She was so beautiful, and yet she seemed to need to have that confirmed all the time. Maybe that was my mother’s fault because looks were the only thing she valued.”
Maybe it was because he was such a good listener, but suddenly she was telling him everything, about how she’d been teased in school about her body, how she’d tried to disguise her shape, how she’d mistrusted relationships.
The conversation wasn’t all one-sided. He talked a little about how he’d felt stifled by looking after his younger siblings and about how guilty he’d felt leaving his grandmother to cope when he’d taken up a place at college.
“She wanted that for you.”
“Didn’t stop me feeling guilty.”
“But by then the children were older. And the fact that you wanted to leave doesn’t change the fact that you loved them.”
“Like the fact that wearing black doesn’t disguise the fact you’re the sexiest woman alive.”
The shift in the atmosphere rocked her off balance, and she felt her pulse quicken. “How much of that wine have you drunk? Your brain is malfunctioning.”
“My brain has been malfunctioning since you wore those pajamas.”
She stared at him across the table. He was sensationally attractive, those eyes dark as flint in a face where every line and angle spoke of strength and masculinity. The air was alive with a tension she had only ever experienced around this man.
The sexual energy was palpable, and by the time they returned to his apartment, she was feeling light-headed from a heady mixture of wine and anticipation.
He found his keys, opened the door and flicked a switch that turned on a couple of lamps and sent a warm glow over the spacious room.
“It’s late,” she murmured. “I should probably go home.” Because she was nervous, she walked to the window, and he threw his keys down on a small table near the door and followed her.
“Is that what you want?” He stood behind her, and his hands closed over her arms.
She closed her eyes. “It would be sensible.”