‘OK.’ She passed him the keys and he went out, and she let the breath ease out of her lungs.
Just one night, she told herself. You can do this. And at least you know he’s not an axe murderer, so it could have been worse.
‘Mummy, finished.’
Josh handed her his cup and she found him a book in the changing bag and sat him on her lap. She was reading to him when Sebastian came back in a few minutes later, stamping snow off his boots and brushing it off his head and shoulders.
She put her tea down and stared at him in dismay. ‘No sign of it stopping, then?’
He shook his head and held out her keys, and she reached out to take them, her fingers closing round his for a moment. They were freezing cold, wet with the snow, and she shivered slightly with the thought of what might have been. If he hadn’t been here...
‘Sebastian—thank you. For everything.’
His eyes searched hers, then flicked away. ‘You’re welcome.’ He shrugged off his coat and hung it up again. ‘I’ll go and make sure your room’s ready.’
‘You don’t need to do that just for one night! I can sleep on a sofa—’
He stared at her as if she’d sprouted another head. ‘It’s a ten-bedroomed house! Why on earth would you want to do that?’
‘I just don’t want you to go to any more trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble, the rooms are already made up. Where do you want these?’
‘Ah.’ She eyed the presents. ‘Can you find somewhere for them that’s not my room? Just to be on the safe side.’
‘Sure. If you need the cloakroom it’s at the end of the hall.’
He picked up all her bags and went out, and she let out her breath on another sigh. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding it again, and the slackening of tension when he left the room was a huge relief.
She felt a tug on her sweater. ‘Mummy, more biscuit.’
‘No, Josh. You can’t have any more. You won’t eat your supper.’
‘Supper at G’annie’s house?’ he said hopefully, and she shook her head, watching his face fall.
‘No, darling, we’re staying here. Grannie sends you her love and a great big kiss and she’ll see you tomorrow, if it’s stopped snowing.’ Which it had better have done soon. She scooped him up and kissed him.
‘I tell you what, why don’t we play hide and seek?’ she suggested, trying to inject some excitement into her voice, and he giggled and squirmed down. As she counted to ten he disappeared under the table, his little rump sticking out between the chair legs.
‘I hiding! Mummy find me!’
‘Oh! Where’s he gone? Josh? Jo-osh, where are you?’ she called softly, in a sing-song voice, and pretended to look. She opened the door Sebastian had got the biscuits from, and found a pantry cupboard laden with goodies. Heavens, he was right, they were ready for a siege! The shelves were groaning with expensive food from exclusive London shops like Fortnum’s and Harrods, and the contents of the pantry were probably equal to her annual food budget.
She shut the door quickly and went back to her ‘search’ for the giggling child. ‘Jo-osh! Where are you?’
She opened another cupboard, and found an enormous built-in fridge, then behind the next door a huge crockery cupboard. It was an exquisitely made hand-built painted kitchen, every piece custom made of solid wood and beautifully constructed, finished in a muted grey eggshell that went perfectly with the cream walls and the black slate floor. And rather than granite, the worktops were made of oiled wood—more traditional, softer than granite, warmer somehow.
The whole effect was classy and elegant at the same time as being homely and welcoming, and it was also well designed, an efficient working triangle. He’d done it properly—or someone had—
‘Mummy! I here!’
‘Josh? Goodness, I’m sure I can hear you, but I can’t see you anywhere!’
‘I under the table!’
‘Under the table?’
She knelt down and peered through the legs of the chairs, bottom in the air, and of course that was how Sebastian found her when he came in a second later.
‘Georgie?’
She closed her eyes briefly. Marvellous. She lifted her head and swiped her hair back out of her eyes as she sat back on her heels, her dignity in tatters. She could feel her cheeks flaming, and she swallowed hard. ‘Hi,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘We’re playing hide and seek.’
He gave a soft, rueful laugh. ‘Nothing much changes, does it?’ he murmured, and she felt heat sweep over her body.
They’d played hide and seek in the house often after that first time, and every time he’d found her, he’d kissed her.
She remembered it vividly, so vividly, and she could feel her cheeks burning up.
‘Apparently not,’ she said, and got hastily to her feet, brushing the non-existent dust from her jeans, ridiculously flustered. ‘Um—I could probably do with changing his nappy. Where did you put our bags?’
‘In your room. It’s the one at the end of the landing on the right—do you want me to show you?’
‘That might be an idea.’
Not because she needed showing, but because she didn’t want to be tempted to stray into his room. He would have the master suite in the middle at the front, overlooking the carriage sweep, and the stairs came up right beside it.
Too tempting.
She called Josh, took his hand in hers and followed Sebastian up the elegant Georgian staircase and resolutely past the slightly open door of the bedroom where she’d given him her body—and her heart...
* * *
Why on earth had he brought up the past when she’d mentioned hide and seek?
Idiot, he chided himself. He’d already had to leave the kitchen on the pretext of putting the cars away when she’d taken her coat off and he’d seen the lush, feminine curves that motherhood had given her.
She’d always had curves, but they were rounder now, softer somehow, utterly unlike the scrawny beanpoles he normally came into contact with, and he ached to touch her, to mould the soft fullness, to cradle the smooth swell of her bottom in his hand and ease her closer.
Much closer.
So much closer that he’d had to get out of the kitchen and give himself a moment.
Now he realised it was going to take a miracle, not a moment, because when he’d run out of things to do he’d walked back in to the sight of that rounded bottom sticking up into the air as she played under the table with the baby, and then she’d straightened, her cheeks still pink from bending over, and he’d seen straight down the V neck of her sweater to the enticing valley between those soft, rounded breasts and lust had hit him like a sledgehammer.
‘Here,’ he said, pushing open the door of her room. ‘It’s got its own bathroom, but I haven’t put up the travel cot, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t know where to start—is that OK? Can you manage?’
‘Oh. Yes. That’s fine. Um—I don’t suppose you’ve got a small blanket—a fleecy one or something? And a sheet? I don’t have any bedding with me because my mother keeps some at hers.’
‘I’m sure I can find something. I’ll see you in the kitchen when you’re done,’ he said, and left them to it.
She looked around at the lovely room, beautifully furnished with antiques, and wondered who’d sourced