Читать книгу The Parent Test - Elizabeth Duke - Страница 7

CAM didn’t speak as he led her along the main passage to the guest wing. Perhaps, Roxy thought, giving him the benefit of the doubt, he didn’t want to risk waking the baby.

Seeing him from behind reminded her—a bittersweet reminder—of the first time she’d ever set eyes on him, as he’d stood at the altar alongside his brother, waiting for Serena and her bridesmaid to join them. Roxy had been the bridesmaid and Cam the best man.

Only their backs had been visible. Cam, the elder brother, was half a head taller than the bridegroom, with shoulders that were considerably wider than those of his equally well-built brother. His glossy dark hair contrasted starkly with Hamish’s wiry, gingery mop. At the sight of Hamish’s brother, who was to be her partner for the evening, she’d almost overbalanced halfway down the aisle. Her feet, unused to high heels, had rolled over slightly on her long spiky heels.

She’d tried to avoid looking at him after that, but annoyingly, his image had remained. She’d taken a few deep breaths, wondering how she could be so aware of a man after a single, fleeting glance from behind. Normally she had nothing but scorn for roving-eyed, love-’em-and-leave-’em types—the type Cam was rumoured to be.

No woman, Hamish had liked to joke, was safe around Cam. No woman could resist him.

No woman? Roxy had stirred at the challenge.

Cam Raeburn, she’d naively thought at the time, would need more than a pair of powerful shoulders and a head of glossy black hair to hold her interest for more than two minutes!

Ha! She’d been like a lamb to the slaughter!

She hadn’t come directly face to face with him until they’d moved into the vestry after the ceremony to sign the register.

‘Well, I must say you’re a surprise, Roxy.’ Cam’s warm honeyed tones and disarming half smile had threatened to melt her where she stood…until his words had sunk in and her nerve-ends had sprung to full alert.

A surprise? A disappointment, more like! No doubt he’d expected a tall, dark-eyed beauty like Serena. Unless Hamish had warned him that she was the pint-sized, tomboyish, unglamorous sister—and here she was, looking glamorous for once, in a shimmering cornflower blue gown, the colour of her eyes.

She’d gazed up at him coolly, only to feel her eyes waver under the impact of his. His eyes, even darker than her dark-eyed sister’s, were like shining black opals, filled with fire and light. She’d had to moisten her lips before she could take in the rest of him—the heavy dark brows, the straight nose, the sexy cleft in his chin, the square jaw.

Finally she’d found her voice, tilting her chin to inquire sweetly, ‘You were expecting a scruffy little ragamuffin with dirty fingernails and scuffed shoes?’

The half smile had become a real one, a heart-stopping smile of pure charm. She’d wobbled on her high heels.

‘On the contrary, Roxy…I was merely expecting someone older—you are the older sister, aren’t you? Having heard only moments ago how brilliantly clever you are—teaching ancient history at University—I expected, at the very least, to see you wearing blue stockings and bifocals, with your hair tied back in a bun.’

She’d had to smile. He wouldn’t be the first man to expect her to look like a fusty academic-simply because she was a qualified archeologist and a lecturer in ancient history. Only Cam hadn’t known then, of course, that she was a globetrotting archeologist as well as a history lecturer. Hamish hadn’t thought to mention it to him, which wasn’t surprising. She’d had no field trips in the past couple of months, and his brother, Cam, had only arrived home that morning from an eightweek overseas business trip.

‘The guest wing’s through here, Roxy.’

She jumped at the sound of Cam’s voice. As he turned to wave her in ahead of him, their eyes met. The impact of his dark gaze was as jolting as ever.

Still the same sexy, charismatic Cam, Roxy thought with a tremulous sigh. But he couldn’t affect her any more. She wasn’t the naive, trusting Roxy she’d been a year and a half ago.

Not that he’d notice or care. He’d made it clear on at least two previous occasions that he preferred leggy, dark-eyed brunettes to blue-eyed, mop-haired blondes with a tendency to trip over their own feet.

She stepped quickly past him. The guest wing was virtually a self-contained flat, with its own small kitchen, dining area, living room, double bedroom and spacious bathroom. It looked roomy and comfortable, with homey decorative touches that reminded Roxy of her sister. Serena had loved decorating.

‘The bed’s already made up,’ Cam told her as he followed her in.

Roxy, her nerves already taut, tensed further at the mention of ‘bed’. She wondered who the bed had been made up for. Was it always made up, ready for guests? Women guests? Or had Cam rushed in here after her phone-call and made it up specially for her?

Hugging the soft teddy bear, she asked, ‘Where’s the baby’s room from here? I’d like to be near my niece.’

Cam gave her a quick, speculative look, as if he wasn’t sure he believed her. ‘Mary’s taken over the room next door to the nursery. And the master bedroom, where I sleep, is on the other side of Emma’s room. Don’t worry, Roxy, I’ll get up to the baby if she wakes in the night. I normally do anyway.’

Roxy inhaled a carefully drawn breath. She didn’t want to start an argument at this point in time, but she had to ask. ‘How about moving my niece in here with me, just for the weekend?’ Or longer, she thought, if it takes longer. ‘It’ll be a way of getting to know each other. I’ll get up to her during the night if she cries. You can catch up on your sleep.’ Her gaze flicked to his face. ‘You look as if you need it’

‘Thanks, but it’s not necessary.’ You’re not necessary, he might as well have said. ‘I’m managing just fine. Emma already sleeps through the night. She has her last bottle around seven, then sleeps right through until five or six o’clock. She rarely wakes in the night’.

‘You don’t mind waking up at five to feed her?’ Roxy’s spirits were beginning to slide. He sounded as if he enjoyed looking after the baby.

But for how much longer would his enthusiasm last?

‘Not a bit…she’s already like a daughter to me,’ he said with a firmness that made her forget about being careful.

‘My sister wanted me to have custody of Emma if anything ever…ever…’ Her voice cracked and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I—I still can’t believe…’ She gulped, a painful lump welling in her throat. Suddenly it was all too much. Grief, jet lag and a build-up of nervous tension swamped her. Burying her face in the teddy bear’s soft fur, she burst into tears.

‘Roxy…’ Cam’s arms were round her before she realised what was happening. She couldn’t find the strength to fight him as, cradling her in the curve of his shoulder, he gently plucked the teddy bear from her and dropped it onto the bed. She let her head fall onto his chest, helpless tears pouring down her cheeks, splashing onto his shirt.

‘It’s okay, Roxy…’ His low voice vibrated against the damp cheek pressed against his chest. He was stroking her hair with an amazingly gentle hand while he held her close to him with his other. The tender stroking felt so caring, so comforting that she couldn’t believe it was Cam Raeburn who was doing it. Weakened by his unexpected sympathy she began to sob in earnest, her breath coming in tremulous gulps, her shoulders heaving, her tearful face still pressed into his T-shirt, soaking the faded fabric.

Cam held her, rocking her as gently as one would rock a baby, until she’d cried out all her bottled-up pain and grief.

Finally she raised her face, furiously blinking away her tears. She didn’t want Cam thinking she was falling into a heap and couldn’t cope with Serena’s baby. ‘Sorry, Cam, I…it just caught up with me. Serena… Hamish… the long flight…the lack of sleep. I’m all right now. Truly.’

He drew back and looked down at her, as if to make sure. ‘No need to apologise.’ He was eyeing her strangely. His voice sounded a bit strange, too, not as cool or as smooth as before. ‘It’s healthy to cry…even if it—’ He clamped his mouth shut and stepped back, letting his hands fall away. His eyes were hidden from her now, and she could sense his withdrawal.

‘I’ll make you some coffee.’ His voice was brusque again, back to normal. ‘Come when you’re ready, Roxy. I’ll be in the kitchen. Just follow the passage.’

He left her to unpack and freshen up. When she joined him in the kitchen a few minutes later, bringing the giant teddy bear with her, he was standing at an island bench, chopping vegetables.

‘Stir fry for dinner okay with you?’ he asked, waving her to a stool.

‘You cook, too?’ He was chopping with a practiced air, as if he’d done this chore many times before.

‘As a bachelor, you need to be able to cook if you don’t want to live on take-away or dine out every night. I’ve come to enjoy it, even though I have Philomena to cook for me these days, if I want her to. Do you cook, Roxy?’ He glanced up, and she caught the glimmer of doubt in his eyes.

‘Give me a camp fire and I’ll show you how well I cook,’ she answered flippantly, propping the teddy bear on the stool beside her. With a tilt of her small chin she added, ‘I might not have your undoubted finesse—I’m no cordon bleu cook—but at least I’ll never starve.’

His eyes narrowed under her feisty gaze, and she wished she hadn’t reminded him of her roving lifestyle.

‘Mind if we have our coffee here in the kitchen? I can go on with my chopping.’ As he poured coffee into two mugs, he asked, ‘Did your father give you the details of your sister’s will, Roxy?’

Roxy’s head jerked up. ‘What details?’ Custody of Emma, did he mean? According to her father, Serena had made no mention of custody in her will.

‘Serena left you a few personal items and some jewellery. I have them in the safe. The Sydney flat that your father bought for you and your sister when he sold your family home and moved to the west coast is now officially yours. It’s been virtually yours anyway, I understand, since Serena married Hamish.’

Roxy frowned into her coffee. Was he hoping she’d go back to her Sydney flat and stay there? Or thinking, maybe, that she didn’t deserve a city flat of her own, since she was so seldom at home?

‘What about…Serena’s clothes?’ she asked with difficulty, without looking at him. ‘Are they still here, waiting to be sorted through?’ If Cam was using the master bedroom, he must have either disposed of them or put them aside for her to deal with.

‘Blanche went through your sister’s things while she and your father were over here for the funeral,’ Cam told her, adding almost accusingly, ‘You weren’t here, Roxy. We hadn’t even heard from you.’ Then, on a softer note, ‘Blanche said that none of Serena’s things would fit you anyway—your sister being so much taller. She bundled everything up and sent it off to a charity.’

Roxy shrugged. No doubt Blanche had taken a few things for herself or her married daughter first. Not that she minded. It would be too painful to wear any of Serena’s clothes anyway. A piece of jewellery…a few personal items…simply as a memento…that was different.

‘Raeburns’ Nest now belongs to me.’ Cam paused to take a sip of his coffee. ‘Everything else—Hamish’s share in the pharmacy and any other money or valuables from their joint estate—will be put into trust for their daughter.’ He flicked her a look, as if waiting for comment.

Roxy took a deep breath and asked, ‘Did Hamish’s will mention custody of their daughter?’

As she glanced up, she caught a glint in Cam’s eye that filled her with foreboding. He told her, in a level, velvet-soft tone, ‘My brother named me as his daughter’s guardian. It was his express wish,’ he spelt out, ‘that I have custody of Emma.’

Roxy’s hand jerked, spilling her coffee. ‘My sister specifically asked me to take care of their daughter if anything ever happened to them!’

Cam’s brow shot up. ‘I’m sure Hamish wouldn’t have named me, Roxy, without Serena’s agreement. Your sister must have changed her mind. No doubt Hamish pointed out how impractical it would be to expect you—a devoted career woman who’s away from Australia for most of the year—to take care of a young child. He must have convinced her that I’d be the best one to have custody.’

Roxy sucked in an incensed breath. ‘My sister would never change her mind! Hamish must have meant that—that he would want you to take care of Emma temporarily…just until I could come back from wherever I was and take over! Or…or he wanted you to be her financial guardian. That’s more like it! Not her permanent, everyday guardian.’

‘I don’t think so.’

His calmness infuriated her even more. ‘I’ll fight you for custody!’ she threatened recklessly.

He laughed. ‘You can’t possibly want permanent custody, Roxy. You’re never at home. You’re always hightailing off to some remote archeological dig where you don’t even get vital mail when it’s sent to you. And when you do, you trip over things and catch foreign bugs that keep you away for weeks longer!’

She winced, and jutted her chin. ‘I’ll give up my field work. Naturally.’

He shook his head, his smile almost pitying. ‘Easy to say that, Roxy…but not so easy to mean it. Sorry, sweetheart, but my brother wanted me to have custody of our niece. Your sister gave no written instructions to suggest that she disagreed.’

‘Well, she’d hardly be expecting to die at the age of twenty-four!’ Roxy snapped back. She gulped down her fury, and after snatching in some breaths of air said more calmly, ‘Surely it’s better for a baby girl to be brought up by a woman—an aunt who can be a real mother figure to her—than a phil—’ She was about to say ‘philandering’, but had second thoughts about hurling insults at this delicate stage. ‘Than a bachelor uncle. You surely must know by now how a baby ties you down.’

Her arguments failed to move him. ‘A daughter should have a father and a mother, and I intend to give Emma both—as soon as I can arrange it.’

Roxy’s heart chilled. So her father was right. Cam was planning to get married again. She felt a sharp twinge. On Emma’s behalf, she told herself frac-tiously. Poor little soul, having one of Cam’s bimbos thrust onto her.

‘Belinda, do you mean?’ she asked before she could stop herself. She clamped her mouth shut. The thought of the dark-eyed, tennis-playing brunette married to Cam and helping to bring up her baby niece made her blood boil. Never, she thought. Never!

‘Belinda?’ Cass looked amused. ‘No, it won’t be Belinda. Belinda’s gone back to her exhusband. She’s living in Melbourne now.’

Roxy felt an irrational leap of relief, before her spirits plunged again. Gone back to her husband… If wives could go back to their husbands…

‘Is your ex-wife coming back to you?’ she blurted out.

Cam laughed. A harsh, scathing laugh, his mouth twisting. ‘Hardly. My wife is happily remarried, and has a new life far more suited to her than the life I offered her.’

The mocking black eyes turned cold and flat under her gaze. Roxy swallowed, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. Did that biting cynicism hide a deep hurt? She felt a wave of sympathy for him.

Until she remembered what was at stake. Her niece. She reached for her coffee, hardening her heart as she gulped it down.

She couldn’t afford any weakening towards Cam Raeburn. She had to remain strong enough to fight him.

In the swirling silence a baby began to cry.