The Passion Price (12 page)

You!
'

Now that she'd blurted out the whole truth, Angelina rather enjoyed the shocked look on Jake's face.

‘You can't seriously expect me to believe you haven't had sex in sixteen years?'

‘No, I wouldn't expect you to believe that. Not
you
, a man who has a different girlfriend every other month and who can't even roll over in bed without reaching for another condom. But perhaps if you think about it a little more, you'll see I'm telling the truth. Why do you think I couldn't get enough last weekend? Because I was so frustrated, that's why.'

Jake stared at her. ‘Frustrated.'

‘Yes. Frustrated!' Her hands found her hips. ‘I deserved a break after being such a goody-two-shoes for so long, don't you think? I could do with a few more, too. But I guess that's out of the question now. I always knew that as soon as you found out about Alex, everything would change between us. I'm no longer lover material, I'm the mother of your child. The
single
mother of your child. And, as such, to be treated with suspicion. It wouldn't take a genius to know that the invitation to come to your place this weekend is off.'

He looked stunned. ‘Well, I…I need some time to think.'

Her smile was laced with bitterness. ‘How come I'm not surprised? You can run but you can't hide, Jake. Alex has found you now, and if I know my son he won't let go. You're his father. Get used to it.'

‘It's only been half a day, Angelina. Give
me
a break, will you?'

She laughed. ‘You were right. You are going to be a pretty rotten father. Oh, I don't doubt you'll give
lip-service to the role, but you just don't have what it takes in here…' She patted her hand over her heart, that heart which was breaking inside.

But be damned if she was going to show it.

‘Alex's inter-school swimming carnival is on this Saturday,' she announced. ‘It starts at one. Can I tell him you'll be there when I call him tonight? Or do you want time to think about that too?'

‘I've already told him I'll be there.'

‘No kidding. You've surprised me.'

‘I surprised myself,' he muttered. ‘Look, I'm doing my best, all right? I don't really know the boy. And I see now that I don't really know you.'

‘Men like you never know anyone, except themselves.'

‘That's a bit harsh.'

‘Is it? I suggest you go home and have a good look in the mirror, Jake. If you can see past the shiny, successful, sexy surface, you just might not like what you find.'

‘Angelina, I—'

‘Oh, just go,' she snapped, and, wrapping her arms around herself, she whirled away from him to stare steadfastly out of the kitchen window.

She felt him staring at her. Felt his hesitation. But then he started walking. ‘See you on Saturday,' he muttered, leaving his coffee untouched behind him on the counter.

By the time Angelina heard the Ferrari growl into life, she was crying her eyes out.

‘I
STILL
find it hard to believe,' Dorothy said during dessert.

Jake, who always lost his appetite when he was stressed, or distressed, put down his dessert fork, his slice of lemon meringue pie still intact. ‘You and me both,' he said with a weary sigh. ‘I didn't sleep much last night. I kept seeing Alex's face when he called me Dad. He made me feel like such a fraud. I'm no hero, Dorothy. I'm just a man.'

‘You're not
just
a man, Jake. You're an exceptional man. And you'll make an exceptional father.'

‘How can you say that, knowing where I came from?'

‘Because I know you. There's not a violent or a mean bone in your body. Angelina more or less said the same thing.'

‘Angelina! Don't talk to me about Angelina!'

‘Why? Because you're in love with her?'

Jake stiffened in his chair. ‘I am not in love with her. I don't fall in love with liars.'

‘She explained why she lied. And I, for one, understand her reasoning perfectly. So would you, if your male ego wasn't involved. She's a mother first and foremost. She was protecting her child.'

‘She deceived me.'

‘For the best of reasons. She wanted to get to know you first.'

‘Yeah. In the biblical sense.'

‘Oh, for pity's sake, will you get off your high horse? The girl obviously fancies you like crazy. She always did. You pack a powerful physical punch, Jake. She's a healthy young woman whose hormones have never had a chance. I don't blame her one bit if she wanted you.'

‘Dorothy!'

‘Goodness me, who do you think you're talking to here? A nun? I'll have you know I know exactly how Angelina must have felt last weekend. I was forty years old when I met Edward. OK, so I wasn't a virgin but as good as. I went to bed with Edward the very first night and we didn't sleep a wink.
All
night. Damn, but it was good.'

Jake just stared. He would never understand women. They could look so soft and malleable on the surface, when all the while, inside, they were tough as teak. And so damned surprising.

He hadn't expected Angelina to stand up to him the way she had yesterday. He'd expected her to wilt under his anger and beg his forgiveness. Instead, she'd read him the Riot Act and given him his walking papers.

She obviously didn't fancy him that much.
And
she sure as hell hadn't fallen in love with him last weekend as he'd foolishly hoped she had.

His goal to marry her now seemed even further away than ever. Perverse, considering they shared a
child. Which brought him to the problem of Alex. Not that Alex was a problem child. He wasn't. He was a credit to Angelina.
He
was the problem. The father. The pathetic and panic-stricken parent.

He didn't know what to do or what to feel.

‘Just go to the swimming carnival, Jake,' Dorothy advised, ‘and let nature take its course.'

Jake shook his head. That was another thing about women. They were mind-readers. And weirdly perceptive. Look at how Sally had known Alex was his son at a glance. And then there was her knowing he was thinking of starting up his own business. How had she guessed that? Maybe the whole sex was in league with the devil.

‘Stop thinking about yourself and
your
feelings,' Dorothy said sternly. ‘Think about Angelina for a change. And what
she's
been through. Much more of a challenge than anything you've ever faced. Being solely responsible for looking after and bringing up a child is a massive job. She might have had her father for support but I doubt he was such a great help with the day-to-day problems of child-rearing. She did it all by herself, Jake. And she did a wonderful job by the sounds of things. The reason you've fallen in love with her is not just because she's physically beautiful. You've had oodles of good-looking girls before. It's because she's a beautiful person, with character and spirit. And you know what? I think she loves you for the same reasons.'

‘Yeah, right,' he said drily.

Jake winced when Dorothy gave him one of the
savage looks she used to give him when he'd first come to live with her. ‘I never took you for a coward, Jake Winters, but you're beginning to sound and act like one. You
do
love Angelina. And you love your son, even if you don't know him yet. Because he's your flesh and blood. And he loves you for the same reason. The three of you should be together, as a family. The reason Angelina got so stroppy with you yesterday is because that's what she wants too and she's afraid it's not going to happen. She's afraid her son is going to be hurt. She's afraid
she's
going to be hurt.'

‘Have you finished?' Jake said ruefully.

‘For tonight,' Dorothy returned as she stabbed her piece of pie with her dessert fork. ‘There might be another instalment at some time in the future.'

‘God forbid. Did Edward know you were like this?'

‘Of course. Admittedly, he hated it when I was always right.'

Jake laughed. ‘
I
hate it too.'

Dorothy's breath caught. And then she let it out very slowly. He did love Angelina. Thank goodness.

‘So what are you going to do about it?' she asked, feigning a composure she was far from feeling.

‘Back off, Dorothy. This coward is still a male animal and likes to do things his way.'

‘I don't really think you're a coward.'

‘I know,' Jake said more softly.

‘Er—do you think I could come to the swimming
carnival with you tomorrow?' Dorothy asked. ‘I would dearly love to see the boy.'

‘Only if you promise not to interfere.'

‘Would I do that?'

‘Yes. Now promise.'

Dorothy sighed. ‘I promise.'

‘OK,' he agreed, and Dorothy beamed.

She rose and scooped up Jake's untouched dessert. ‘Coffee?'

‘Mmm. Yes, please,' he said, watching blankly as Dorothy left the room. He was wondering what Angelina was doing and if she really might love him, as Dorothy said.

 

‘I hate him,' Angelina muttered as she slammed the plates into the dishwasher.

‘Hey, watch it with the crockery there, boss!'

‘Let her break a plate or two, Kevin,' Wilomena advised from where she was scraping the remains of tonight's meals into the bin. ‘Better than her breaking them over a certain person's head. Besides, they're her plates. She can do with them whatever she damned well pleases.'

‘True,' Angelina growled, and slammed a few more in.

None of them broke. But then, they weren't as easily broken as other things. Like her heart.

‘The bastard,' she grumped. ‘How dare he say he had to
pretend
to be nice to Alex? As if anyone ever has to pretend to be nice to Alex.'

‘Geez, Angelina!' Kevin exclaimed. ‘Give the man a break.'

‘That's exactly what she'd like to do,' Wilomena said drily. ‘Across that stupid skull of his.'

‘You women expect too much of a guy.'

‘No kidding!' both women chorused.

‘He'll come round. Just give him time.'

‘Like, how long? A lifetime?' Wilomena said waspishly. ‘That's how long it takes for some men to come to the party. If ever.'

‘I think he sounds like an OK guy. He's going to Alex's swimming carnival tomorrow, isn't he?'

‘Big deal,' Angelina muttered.

‘Yeah, big deal,' Wilomena echoed.

‘Women!' Kevin huffed. ‘Impossible to please.'

‘He could please her all right,' Wilomena said after Angelina had gone home and she and Kevin were stacking away the last of the things. ‘He could tell her he loves her for starters, then ask her to marry him.'

Kevin laughed. ‘You think that would please her? You know what she'd do? She'd throw back at him that he didn't really love her and he was only marrying her for the kid's sake. And then she'd say no, like a typical female.'

‘Rubbish! She would not! Not if she loved him. And she does. Trust me on that. Women who love guys don't say no to a proposal of marriage.'

‘You know, I'm glad to hear you say that,' Kevin said, and, drawing a small velvet box out of his white coat's pocket, he dropped to one knee then flipped it
open. The cluster of diamonds in the ring glittered like his eyes.

‘Wilomena Jenkins,' he said, ‘I love you and I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?'

Wilomena didn't say no. She didn't say a single word. She was too busy crying.

A
LEX
stood behind the starting blocks with the rest of his relay team, nerves making him shift from foot to foot. He swung his arms in circles to keep his muscles warm, and tried to focus on the race ahead, deliberately keeping his eyes away from the stand where he knew his parents were sitting together watching him, along with the old duck they'd brought with them.

‘Dorothy's an old friend of mine,' his dad had introduced her before the meet began.

Old was right. And brother, had she stared at him.

Of course, that was because he looked so much like his dad.

His dad.

Alex scooped in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. It was still almost too good to be true, finding his father like that. He'd been confident that his dad would not be in jail. But he'd never dreamt he'd be a top lawyer. How cool was that? And what about that simply awesome car he drove? The guys at school had been green with envy when he'd rocked up on Thursday in a yellow Ferrari.

He'd felt so proud, introducing his dad around to his friends and teachers. He must have gone to sleep that night with a permanent smile on his face.

Now today was his chance to make his dad proud of him. Alex knew he wasn't good enough at his school work to line up for too many academic prizes. But he was his school's best swimmer. He'd already won the hundred-metre sprint. And the two hundred. Now he was lining up for the four-by-one relay, the last race of this meet, and he was swimming the anchor leg.

Kings were in front on the scoreboard. But only by a couple of points. If St Francis's could win this relay, the cup would be theirs. The trouble was, their second-best hundred-metre swimmer had come down with a virus that morning and they'd had to bring in the first reserve, who was three seconds slower. On paper, they couldn't possibly win, not unless they all swam above themselves.

Alex wanted to win. He wanted to win so badly.

They were being called up for the start. Alex felt sick. As team captain, he'd made the decision to put their slowest swimmer first, employing the tactic that sometimes a swimmer could swim a personal best if they were chasing. Of course, sometimes the chase theory didn't work. The behind swimmer tried too hard on the first lap and went lactic in the second.

The gun went off and their first and slowest swimmer was in the water, doing his best but possibly trying
too
hard. After he'd come in to the changeover several lengths behind, Alex wished he'd made the decision to go first himself. But he soothed his panic with the knowledge that Kings had sent their second-best swimmer off first.

By the second changeover, they'd caught up a couple of lengths. But then disaster happened. Their third swimmer's foot slipped on the starting block at the changeover, losing them another precious length. By the time he turned to come down for the second lap, he was trailing the Kings boy by a good five lengths. He dug deep, however, and came towards the wall only three lengths behind.

But even as Alex readied himself for the changeover, logic told him that three lengths were still too much. Sure, he'd won the hundred-metre race earlier in the afternoon. But only by a length. How could he possibly find another two lengths?

And then the voice came to him, across the pool, loud and clear.

‘Go for it, son!'

He went, with wings on his feet, making up half a length in the changeover dive alone, coming up with the Kings swimmer's feet in his sights. There was no holding back. He wasn't close enough for fancy tactics, like riding in the other boy's wash. He put his foot down, his big arms slicing through the water, his even bigger feet churning with a six-beat kick right from the start.

You have to nail the turn, he lectured himself as the wall loomed into view. His lungs were bursting. He'd forgotten to breathe. No time now. He would breathe later, after he'd turned. He tumbled. His feet hit the wall and he was surging forward under the water. Up he eventually came, gasping for air but still swimming like a madman. He had no idea where
the Kings boy was now. His head was turned the other way. All he could do was go like the hammers of hell.

His arms were burning. So were his legs. He'd never known such pain. Or such determination. He was going to win, not just for his dad, but also for his mum. He wanted to make her proud as well. Alex knew she'd given up a lot for him, and he wanted her to see that it had been worth it.

Not far now. He could hear the screaming. It had to be close. Just a bit more, Alex. You can do it. Stroke harder. Kick faster. The wall was coming up. Time it right. Dip down, stretch those fingers. You've got your dad's big hands. They have to be good for something.

He touched then exploded upwards, out of the water. He looked up, towards his mother. She had her hands over her face and she looked as if she was crying. His heart sank. He'd lost. He'd given it his all and he'd lost. But then the boy in the next lane was tapping him on the shoulder and congratulating him.

He looked up again. His mum was now wrapped in his dad's arms and the old duck next to them was grinning like a Cheshire cat, with her hand held up towards Alex in a victory sign.

Alex grinned back at her, his own hand punching up high into the air as he yelled, ‘Go for it, Dad!'