Divided Hearts (5 page)

Knowing that Hannah missed her mother, Faye had to admit that being here provided a welcome diversion from the void of Jenna’s absence at home. Approaching the crib with careful steps, she gazed down at the tiny form lying motionless there, curled up on her stomach with her limbs tucked under her, the blanket askew. Faye gently slid the blanket over Hannah’s back, and then lightly stroked her mass of dark hair, her heart swelling with affection for the tiny, vulnerable person left in her care. Faye loved Hannah as she would a child of her own, and she fervently hoped that bringing her here had been the right thing to do; it certainly
felt
right every time she saw Simon and Hannah together, getting to know each other and growing comfortable as father and daughter.

The trouble was, Faye was beginning to have difficulty distinguishing what felt right for Hannah from what was pleasing for herself.

She’d simply have to keep her focus on Hannah’s needs and block out those unbidden emotions and sweet desires that seemed to tumble through her whenever Simon Blake came near.

Creeping silently past the crib, Faye eased the door open and slipped out into the hallway, blinking against the light. Though it was only eight-thirty, the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding she’d consumed, along with two glasses of wine, had left her drowsy; sitting in a quiet, darkened room waiting for a toddler to succumb to sleep had only worsened the effect.

The rest of the house was just as quiet now. When Faye had taken Hannah to bed a half-hour before, she’d left Simon and his mother washing up the supper dishes, and she wondered where they’d gone.

Emerging into the living room, she first heard the pleasant crackle of a fire, then saw it glowing in the depths of the stone fireplace as she turned the corner.

She stopped abruptly, catching sight of Simon settled into the chair by the fireplace, a newspaper draped over his lap and a glass of red wine in his hand. Faye’s first inclination was to turn and slip back into her room before he saw her; an early night didn’t seem like a bad idea after all. But before she could move, his gaze rose to meet hers. A smile played on his lips, forming an appealing crease across his cheek. Faye’s heart thumped heavily.

He raised his glass in her direction. “Would you care to join me?”

Chapter Four

“Join you?” she asked slowly.

His chin dipped in a curt nod. “Would you like some wine?”

“We already polished off that bottle of Bordeaux with dinner,” Faye reminded him.

“’
When there is plenty of wine, sorrow and worry take wing’.” He tossed a glance at Faye as he headed to the kitchen, one eyebrow lifting roguishly. “That is, according to the Roman poet Ovid,
” he added, fetching the open bottle of wine from the counter and a glass from the cupboard.

She couldn’t help the smile the touched her lips, her anxiety easing. “If Ovid says so, I suppose one more glass won’t hurt.”

“This is an Australian shiraz, very rich and plummy, with quite a fragrant nose. I think you’ll like it.” Holding the glass at an angle, Simon tipped the bottle deftly, filling the glass with the burgundy liquid.

“Jenna didn’t mention you were a wine connoisseur,” she remarked.

“Probably because she can’t stand the stuff.”

“True. All the cheap wine we drank in high school spoiled it for her.” Faye chuckled at the memory, before a wave of sadness swept through her, thoughts of Jenna’s uncertain future weighing on her spirits.
You should be here instead of me, Jenna. You should be the one dealing with your child’s father, as you ought to have done two years ago.

She glanced around, expecting to find Mary tucked in a corner with a newspaper or book of her own. “Where’s your mother?”

“She went to her room to watch TV before bed.” Simon handed Faye the filled glass, his gaze capturing hers. “Are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”

“No,” she replied, the tenor of her voice making it clear that she wasn’t so certain.

The corner of his mouth twitched, amusement glimmering in his deep-blue eyes. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not out to seduce you. I was only hoping we could talk.”

“About what?” Feeling her face burn, she attempted to hide behind her glass, taking a long sip of the smooth, rich wine.

Simon motioned for her to join him on the sofa. Settling next to him, she crossed her legs and tucked her elbows at her sides, keeping her knee several inches from his. It might not be his intention to seduce her, but all the same, she wasn’t taking any chances.

“I know it’s difficult to discuss the future with Jenna’s condition being as it is,” he began. “But I want to make my intentions clear. As soon as it’s feasible I’d like to set up a more regular visitation arrangement with Hannah. I’ll have my lawyer draw up something, with your complete involvement, of course—”

“You’ve made your intentions pretty clear already, Simon,” Faye interrupted. “But couldn’t we hold off on that for now? I’m perfectly willing to let you see Hannah whenever you want to. As for Jenna, I have no idea what her reaction will be. Despite her flawed judgment in how she’s handled this, she’s really not an unreasonable person.”

Simon stared at the wine in his glass, considering her words. “I don’t mean to be insensitive to what’s happened to her. I do wish Jenna a speedy recovery. But I imagine she’ll need someone to look after Hannah for some time yet, and I assume you’ll be the one continuing to care for her.”

“Definitely. I’ve always assured Jenna that if anything should happen to her, I’d raise Hannah myself. I intend to keep to that promise.” Faye spoke with a firm tone, her chin raised resolutely. If he was leading up to the suggestion of taking custody of Hannah himself if Jenna proved unable to care for her, he’d have a fight on his hands. But surely it wouldn’t come to that.

“It’s incredibly selfless of you, Faye, to help your friend raise her child like this,” he remarked. “Not only since the accident, but all along. Surely you’d like to settle down with someone, marry and start your own family.”

“No prospects of that at the moment.” Faye hadn’t been in a serious relationship since before Hannah was born, and since then had been too busy to date much at all. “But if I do meet someone special, he’ll just have to deal with the fact that I’ve made a commitment to Hannah. Who knows, maybe Jenna will meet someone and get married herself. But I plan to be there for both of them as long as they need me.”

“Even if you have children of your own?” Simon wondered.

“Oh, I don’t plan on having kids.”

His brows lifted abruptly. “You don’t?”

“Why does that shock you? Does every woman necessarily have a burning desire to reproduce?” she asked tartly, resenting his apparent assumption that a thirty-two-year-old single woman must hear her biological clock as a deafening roar in her ears.

“No, of course not. But you’re so devoted to Hannah. I assumed you had a maternal inclination.”

“I do love kids,” Faye clarified. “That’s why I can’t stand the thought of putting them through what I went through growing up.”

Simon eyed her curiously. “What’s that?”

She paused, recognizing that the wine had loosened her tongue, chasing away her customary prudence with her words. “You don’t want to hear my sob story, do you?”

“I’m interested, if you’d like to tell me.” He leaned closer, resting his elbow on the back of the sofa. The depths of his eyes shimmered with reflected firelight, warm and compelling as he held her gaze.

Faye drew a deep breath before speaking. “My parents divorced when I was six. It was a very messy divorce, and I spend the rest of my childhood in the middle of a bitter custody battle. It was a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Sipping his wine, he studied her over the rim of his glass. “Couldn’t they work out an arrangement?”

Faye’s shoulders lifted and fell listlessly. “My dad had an affair. Mom just couldn’t forgive him, and she wanted to keep punishing him. Never mind that it was me who ended up suffering.” She turned to face Simon, her words carefully measured. “Promise me you won’t do that to Hannah, no matter how angry or hurt you may be. Don’t make her suffer for Jenna’s mistake.”

As she finished speaking she felt his hand curl over hers, gently enfolding her fingers in the warmth of his grasp. Surprised, she let her gaze drop, and then flicker back up to meet his, her eyes silently questioning.

“All I want is to share custody,” he assured her. “I won’t ever try to take Hannah away from her mother. Or you. I do promise you that.”

“It’s going to be tough. You live a good distance away,” she said slowly, struggling to maintain her focus. She felt too warm, as though his touch had heated her blood, sending a surge of liquid fire through her veins.

“I’ll move to Vancouver if it makes things easier,” he offered casually.

Faye stared at him in surprise. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I love this place, and I’d love Hannah to enjoy it as well. But if it makes it more difficult for me to spend time with her, I’m quite willing to let it go.”

Faye felt her lips curl upward at the edges. “You’ve come to terms with being a father so quickly. In fact it seems you’ve embraced it.”

Simon swallowed the last of his wine before replying. “When I was a boy, my father was never around. In fact I hardly knew him. One day he just never came home. He abandoned us, simply vanished. I thought he’d been killed on some dangerous assignment. But eventually we found out he was living in Copenhagen with another woman.” He squeezed Faye’s hand gently, his gaze intent. “I’ll never abandon my child, Faye. Hannah has a father for life.”

Nodding her understanding, Faye drained the last of her wine in a long swallow, her body still alight with a smoldering heat more radiant than the flames wavering in the fireplace before them.

At last releasing her hand, Simon observed her with interest. “Your cheeks are flushed. Perhaps you
have
had a bit too much wine.”

“I think I have,” she said with a shaky laugh, glancing down at her empty glass. “Thank you, though. It was lovely.”

Taking her glass, he offered a playful smile. “There’s an old French proverb that says: ‘In water one sees one's own face; but in wine, one beholds the heart of another.’”

Faye felt her face flush more deeply. Was he able to see into her heart? It was battering so hard against her ribcage, surely he could somehow sense it. In her glowing cheeks, how could he help but perceive her muddled emotions, her fierce devotion to Hannah tangled up with a burgeoning desire for him that she couldn’t dismiss.

“I’m tired,” she said abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight, then,” he said casually, as though nothing were amiss. ”See you in the morning.”

Faye marched back to her room and undressed in the dark, careful not to wake Hannah. Her head reeling from the wine, she crawled gratefully between the bed sheets. Tucking her hand under her cheek, she felt the nerve endings in her fingers still tingling from Simon’s touch. Though fatigue swiftly stole over her, her mind couldn’t quite submit to sleep; she stared at the window by her bed, listening to Hannah’s rhythmic breathing from the other side of the room, and willing her heart to match its easy pace.

Faye, get a grip
, she admonished herself.
So you’re attracted to Simon Blake. You can handle it. It’s not as though he’s irresistible. Besides, his only interest in you relates to your role as his daughter’s guardian. His concern lies solely with Hannah; that’s where yours should stay, too.

Yes, the key was to focus on Hannah’s wellbeing. It was the only way to survive another day under the same roof with Simon … along with another night.

* * *

Facing the mirror opposite her bed, Faye smoothed out the fabric of her cardigan, letting the thick waves of her golden hair tumble over her shoulders. Though tired from lack of sleep, she didn’t look it, her jangled nerves causing a blush high in her cheeks. It was only Simon’s relatives arriving—
Hannah’s
relatives—but Faye was the outsider, the one to be scrutinized. She’d coloured her lips with a pale pink gloss, and under the cardigan she wore her favourite summer dress, a knee-length periwinkle garment with a gathered bodice that flattered her slender figure.

She had dressed Hannah in a pale yellow dress, tights, and a tiny cable-knit cardigan of her own; at the moment the toddler was sitting on the floor, trying diligently to slide her feet into her black patent-leather shoes, but not quite having the coordination to manage it.

“Let me get those for you,” Faye said, bending to slip the shoes onto Hannah’s tiny feet. “Come on, let’s go see if we can help Daddy and Nan with the food.”

Hannah grabbed her stuffed dog, tucking it firmly under her arm as Faye opened the bedroom door. Taking the little girl by the hand, Faye led her out into the living room, before Hannah broke loose and dashed off toward the kitchen.

Following, Faye heard a smooth male voice from the kitchen as the toddler disappeared around the corner. “Oh, hello. My, you look pretty. Did you come to help me?”

Peering into the room, Faye saw Hannah grinning up at Simon, who stood by a pot of asparagus soup bubbling on the stove. Faye hung back for a moment, not wanting to distract Hannah from her father’s warm greeting. And Faye couldn’t help pausing to observe the man, looking charmingly domestic in his red tartan apron, wooden spoon in hand. At the same time, he exuded a potent masculinity that aroused a sweet flutter of excitement in Faye.