Love's Sacrifice (The Billionaire Banker 5)

As we near her Blake lets go of my hand, and goes around the low table to kiss her on both her cheeks. She lifts her chin and angles her head delicately to receive his kisses.

‘Hello, dear,’ she says quietly.

Blake straightens and regards her with an expression I cannot decipher. It is a mixture between exasperation and resignation.

‘Why are you here, mother?’

‘If Mohammed won’t go to the mountain,’ she murmurs.

Blake comes around and, putting his arm around my waist, says, ‘Lana, meet my mother, Helena.’

‘Hello, Lana.’ Her voice is cool and slightly aloof, but not unfriendly. Her tone says ‘approach, but come with caution’.

‘Hello, Mrs. Barrington,’ I say, overawed by her considerable presence.

‘Helena,’ she corrects with a nearly friendly smile.

‘Helena,’ I agree softly.

Blake gestures towards the sofa and I sink into it. He lowers himself beside me. She seems to be drinking still mineral water. A glass is half full with clear liquid and a bottle of it is on the table.

‘Will you have something to drink?’ she offers.

‘Feel like some coffee?’ Blake directs his question to me.

‘Something cold.’ My throat feels dry and scratchy.

A uniformed, smiling waiter stands beside Blake with a menu. Blake passes it to me and orders himself a short espresso.

I take the menu and feel Helena’s eyes on me. I don’t try to meet her eyes. Instead, I open the menu and bury myself in it. I look up at the waiter and order watermelon juice. The waiter moves away with a bow.

‘Well,’ Helena says.

‘Whoever heard of a mother who interrupts her son’s honeymoon?’

‘Whoever heard of a son who doesn’t invite his own mother to his wedding?’

‘We saved some cake for you.’ His voice is even, without provocation.

‘I don’t eat cake.’

Blake sighs. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t invite you, but I didn’t want any trouble.’

‘From what I heard, you had plenty anyway,’ she retorts.

‘Don’t start,’ Blake warns her.

‘Well, it’s the talk of the town. My best friends can’t wait to call me up and tell me the big gossip.’ She affects a hurt tone.

I bite my lip. Neither of them even seem aware of my presence. Really, Blake should have met her without me.

‘Is that what you came all the way here to discuss?’ Blake asks, the first sign of impatience edging his voice.

‘No, as a matter of fact I came to see my grandson.’

‘I can go get him,’ I volunteer quickly.

Blake looks like he is about to protest.

But Helena turns to me with a smile. ‘That’ll be wonderful. Thank you, Lana.’

Smiling broadly I start edging away from them and sidling out from behind the table. In my haste I hit my knee on the edge of the table, and just about stop myself from crying out.

‘Are you all right?’ Blake asks, concerned.

I bob my head brightly and escape. When I get to the entrance I can’t help it. I glance back quickly. Blake is watching me and his mother is watching him. I slip out quickly and meet Billie coming out of the lift. Brian is behind her. Brian nods unobtrusively at me and waits a few feet away.

Sorab squeals with unconcealed delight and excitement when he spots me. He holds his arms out and waves them impatiently at me. I take him from her and rain kisses on his face. He hugs my neck tightly and laughs.

‘You look pale. You must have met the mutton dressed in dragon, then,’ Billie says.

‘Disconcertingly posh, isn’t she?’ I whisper.

‘Yes, vomit-inducingly grand. What’s it like so far?’

‘Alien vs. Predator.’

She laughs. ‘Which one’s your husband?’

‘Who wins?’

‘Predator, I think.’

‘That’ll be him, then.’

‘Don’t let her bite you, duckie.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Right, then, I’m off to do some sunbathing by the pool. Come and see me when you are finished,’ she says and leaves, her flip-flops slapping the gleaming granite floor.

‘See you later,’ I call out after her, and, gazing adoringly at Sorab, drop more kisses on his face. He grins widely at me. ‘So you missed your mummy, then?’ I ask, and as if he has understood me, he grabs my neck and plants a very wet kiss on my lips.

‘OK, let’s go see your grandma.’

When we reach the door of the lounge I see that Blake and his mother are involved in an intense discussion. As soon as her eyes catch our arrival she stops talking, and, smiling widely, stands to greet her grandson.

‘Oh, what a beautiful child,’ she exclaims. ‘Blue eyes and a round face. A moon child. Just like you, Blake,’ she says.

‘No, he’s not,’ Blake retorts harshly and I wonder what they are really referring to.

She laughs and holds her beautifully preserved hands, the tips pale pink ovals, out to Sorab.

But Sorab only buries his face in my neck, and looks longingly at his father, at the place where he really wants to go.

‘He’s a bit reserved with strangers,’ I explain apologetically.

‘Hello,’ she coos brightly, but still buried in my hair, Sorab turns his face fractionally towards her, and stares at her unsmiling.

‘He doesn’t tend to say much,’ I add.

Helena laughs. ‘He’s exactly like you, Blake. This is exactly how you were.’

I look at Blake. He is watching us without expression. When he catches my eyes, his lips curve upwards. Helena goes back to her seat and snaps open her white crocodile handbag with an expensive clunk, the discreet whiff of perfumed new leather, and a glimpse of the exclusive Gadino label. She fidgets about inside it and comes up with a lollipop, which she then unwraps slowly and deliberately, as she comes toward us. It is on the tip of my tongue to tell her that we have not introduced him to sweets or sugar, but I resist the urge. Fascinated, Sorab looks at the tantalizingly red lollipop. He wants it.

‘Go on,’ she encourages. ‘It’s for you.’

He snatches his hand out, but she pulls the sweet out of his reach. He stops and regards her. She opens her arms out and he rears back and watches her steadily. She offers him the lollipop and again he reaches for it only to have it drawn back. Any other child would have cried but he waits quietly, aware that it will be offered again. When it is, he lunges for it so hard, he almost jumps out of my arms. Helena is so taken aback by surprise that she doesn’t react in time, and Sorab grabs the prize in his fat hands and falls back against me.