CHAPTER SEVEN

THERE'SSUCHSAVAGERY in his whisper I step back but I can't help looking at them again. He's still studying Lukas, intently absorbing every detail as if he's never seen a baby before. I'm unable to move—literally arrested by the sight of my son and his father finally together. Lukas looks tiny as Dain carefully cradles him. There's such a ‘them' about this moment—an intimacy I'm intruding on. This should have happened three months ago. It should have happened the day Lukas was born.

Loss hits me, yearning and, yes, remorse. Each blow knocks the breath from my body. The regret isn't only for the delay in this, but the realisation that we're not a family. My son doesn't have that. I don't have that—a partner to offer not just support and security but love.

I remember the day of Lukas's birth. I missed Dain—I wanted to hold his hand through the delivery. I haven't let myself think about that since. But I cried, alone—and scared.

He's angry with me. He's right to be. I ran away from the conflict—the rejection—just as my mother always did. I already know I wouldn't fit into his world. Wealthy people like him live on a planet that has no place for me except as an employee. I've been told in no uncertain terms, repeatedly by one of the rich jerks my mother fell for and by his daughter, who I thought was my friend. But I was merely her charity case.

I turn away, angry with him too. For never replying. Never returning to Queenstown. For having other priorities in his life. But we were only ever supposed to have been a moment and it's unreasonable of me to have wanted otherwise.

I pack quickly. I'm used to taking only what I can carry so I'm pretty minimalist. It's the extra things for Lukas that slow me—his nappies and clothes, his few toys, his bassinet and bedding.

‘You don't have a pram?'

I shove a toy into my backpack and answer shortly. ‘I use a sling for now.'

I would've loved a pram or buggy to take him on walks but there's no way I could get a pram up the stairs and there's nowhere to store it in the café. Besides which, I couldn't afford it. It's less than five minutes before everything is stowed.

Dain carefully passes Lukas back to me. ‘I need to make a couple of arrangements.'

It's a relief that he puts his intense focus onto his phone. He taps several messages before making a call.

‘Do you have a car seat for him?' He interrupts his flow to ask me.

I nod, I was loaned one. I'm glad Romy isn't on shift at the café, so I don't have to explain anything to her in person. I'll leave a message for her in a bit.

Ten minutes later I carry Lukas and my backpack downstairs. Dain carries Lukas's bag and his bassinet. On the pavement, a driver waiting beside a gleaming black car hastens forward to assist. I don't know if I'll be coming back. Again, that's something that's all too familiar.

Bitterness wells and I blink back tears. I'm used to upheaval like this and I'm a survivor, but I didn't want Lukas to experience it ever. I want him to have stability and security. So I have to work this out with Dain.

I've never forgotten that night and part of me is still deeply attracted to him—the hormonal, basic breeding instinct part. You'd think it would have been satisfied already. Yep, I'm a fool. It's not that I don't think relationships can ever last but a guy like Dain—rich and entitled—isn't a commitment king. Yet I went with him anyway—blinded by looks and charisma and the impetuousness sparked by that stormy night. And if it had been for just that one wild night I might've got away with it, but for my precious child.

It's a twenty-minute, awkward-silence-filled drive out of town.

I frown. ‘I thought we were going to a hotel?'

Instead we pull up at a stunning mansion on a large section. Established trees shield it from the road, yet once we're inside I clock the amazing views of the vast landscape.

‘This place belongs to a friend,' he says.

‘Does she hire it out?'

‘What?' He looks blank. ‘No.'

I could kick myself. She's wealthy—another world where you can have a holiday home bigger than most people's houses and keep it empty most of the year round. I've no reason or right to be jealous yet the feeling rising within me is nothing but ugly. I make myself say something polite. ‘It's beautiful.'

‘We'll have privacy here,' he says crisply.

He cares so very much about privacy. I wonder what happened to make him value it so acutely. Is it simply the pressure of being a high-net-worth individual? That poor-rich-boy thing? That isn't happening to Lukas.

There was an image of Dain and his grandfather on the history section of the company website. Nothing of his parents. Dain looked about eleven in the photo.

‘You don't need anything else for Lukas?' he asks as he carries in the bags. ‘I thought there were all kinds of things babies needed, but this doesn't seem like much.'

Shame burns. I don't have the money for anything more than the basics.

‘We'll get whatever else we need in Australia,' he says.

‘Don't think that by repeatedly mentioning it, I'll suddenly agree to move.' I follow to see where he's taking Lukas's bed. ‘I'm used to sleeping near him.'

‘Sure.' He walks forward. ‘While we're here, he's in the room between each of ours.'

Lukas is restless and needs some playtime. I lay him on the warm rug in front of the wood-burner that was lit before we arrived. I kneel beside him and pull out his favourite rabbit toy to play and let him kick out his legs.

Dain appears in the doorway but doesn't venture in. ‘He'll be okay if we watch him from here while we talk?'

My stomach sinks. I feel as if I've been summoned to the principal's office. He's watching Lukas but as I approach his gaze lifts. Heat crawls over me. Suddenly clumsy, I almost trip over my own feet.

‘What's the project you have in Queenstown?' I mumble to distract us both from my humiliating loss of co-ordination.

‘The new apartments by the golf course. That's why I was here a year ago. Simone wanted my investment.'

I know the ones. According to the sign they're all sold already and they've barely begun building them.

‘Why did you run off so quickly that night?' he asks bluntly.

‘I had another job to get to.'

‘Wasn't it cancelled because of the storm? Surely the bar was closed after the power cut? You could have taken two minutes to say goodbye.'

Because goodbye was all there should've been to say. I don't answer and he doesn't wait long.

‘When did you find out you were pregnant?'

He's going direct. I've imagined this conversation so many times but I still struggle to explain. ‘I'd been working long hours and just thought I was irregular. It wasn't till I started showing that I...' Completely panicked. ‘That I did a test.'

‘Were you taking care of yourself?'

I stiffen. ‘I don't party, if that's what you're worried about.'

There's a rueful twist to his lips I don't quite understand.

‘I'm more worried about the hours you work.'

I don't respond because ironically it's right this second that I realise how horribly tired I am. I've been filming late at night, baking early morning, caring for Lukas round the clock all while recovering from his birth.

‘You knew the baby was mine?' His voice lowers.

My shrug is non-committal because I don't want to tell him that he's the only person I've ever slept with.

His gaze flickers. ‘You didn't consider ending the pregnancy?'

Maybe he thinks I'm irresponsible given I'm in not in the best position to care for him? Once I was past that initial amazement I was elated. ‘Even if I'd found out sooner, I wouldn't have done anything differently.'

‘Including not trying harder to contact me?'

The truth is I'll do anything to keep my baby, but I can't tell him that because it will give him absolute power over me. Even though he'll likely have that anyway, given he has resources I can't compete with. I'll have to compromise.

‘I love Lukas,' I say huskily, my heart aching. ‘I tried to contact you. When you didn't reply I stopped.'

‘Your family helped?'

I'm thrown. ‘My what?'

‘Did they support you through the pregnancy?' He frowns. ‘Your parents?'

I'm so stunned I'm too honest in my answer. ‘I haven't had parental support in years.'

‘They're dead?'

‘It's been so long since I saw my father he might as well be,' I mutter. ‘My mother is around but...'

‘You're not close.'

My mum's way of coping with anything bad is to uproot and ship out. Unfortunately bad stuff happens to her frequently and usually involves some jerk. She's been desperate for someone to depend on for my whole life and made way too many bad choices in that search. We had to move far too often, which impacted on my and Ava's friendships and our education—not that Mum cared about those things. Or us.

But I did. I'd already been working part-time for years to supplement what little money Mum made and I didn't want Ava to have to start over in yet another school. I dropped out and worked full time, that way I could afford a tutor to extend her. The school turned a blind eye to the fact no one turned up to parent-teacher interviews. But I don't explain all this to Dain, he's frowning enough as it is.

‘I've been supporting myself since I was a teenager.' I lift my head proudly. ‘I work several jobs and work hard.' It's never been easy but I've supported Ava for years and now Lukas too. ‘My social media channel is building and income is trickling in from that. I don't want to lose momentum.'

‘You don't need to make money,' he dismisses. ‘You can delete the channel.'

‘Pardon?' If I had hackles, they'd be on end. ‘My career matters to me.'

‘You never have to work again if you don't want to.'

‘What? And be completely dependent upon you?' I'm appalled and a horrifying thought occurs to me. ‘I don't want to be a kept woman. Certainly not your wife.'

Would he be that old-fashioned?

‘Have I asked you to be?' he drawls.

Of course he hasn't. I'm not the society sort of wife Dain Anzelotti would have. The beautiful model with the famous family pedigree that he was photographed with minutes after being with me, however, she'd be perfect. I grit my teeth.

‘I'm not interested in marriage,' he adds.

‘That night you were unashamedly anti-kids too.'

‘What's happened isn't Lukas's fault. I'll be there for him.'

‘What does that even mean?' I ask smartly. ‘Will you tolerate his existence? He won't be too much of an inconvenience?' I step forward. If there's no commitment between us there's an easy escape for Dain and I already know no one can be relied on. ‘You get one chance,' I mutter fiercely. ‘If you ever walk out on Lukas then you're out of his life for good.'

‘Right back at you.' He steps forward to go toe to toe with me. ‘I don't believe in marriage.' He sneers through the word. ‘We'll have an unbreakable, legally enforceable contract. It doesn't need to be difficult or emotive. We'll agree to terms and we'll get on with it.'

He means an access plan. He means a dictate on where we live and how long for. What school Lukas will go to. Which doctor. Every aspect of his life will be agreed in advance between us. I'm going to lose full autonomy and have to agree with a man used to getting his own way. He's watching me closely and the longer I remain silent, the bigger the storms grow in his eyes.

‘My parents' marriage was a mess,' he suddenly whispers. ‘I was weaponised. Victimised. Blamed. That's never happening to Lukas. We'll work everything out between us well ahead of time so he never has to feel—'

He breaks off and takes a sharp breath. He glances away from me to look at our baby on the soft rug.

He doesn't want to tell me more. Fair enough. There's plenty I don't want to tell him either.

‘Okay, we'll work it out,' I agree softly. With no marriage. No dependency. ‘We both want the best for him.'

The problem is we might not always agree on what that ‘best' will be.