‘I lost everything that afternoon.’
‘What did your aunt and uncle say?’
Hannah lifted her gaze to his, and a ridiculous sense of shame made it difficult to maintain eye contact. Hannah shook her head, that awful afternoon burned into her brain like a cattle brand. ‘Do you mind if we don’t go down this particular memory lane?’
She flicked her gaze back to his face, catching surprise crossing his features. But it was banked down within a moment, and he stepped back, almost as though he hadn’t realised how close they were, how he was touching her.
‘Of course.’ His smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Have a seat.’ He gestured towards the table. ‘There is much we have to discuss.’
‘WHAT WORK WERE you doing in London?’
Hannah sipped her fruit juice, a pang of guilt scrunching her chest when she thought of her boss, Fergus, and how she planned to leave him completely in the lurch.
‘I’m a legal secretary.’
‘Have you done this for long?’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘Since I left high school. My aunt and uncle lived in a small town. There weren’t a lot of options for work. I would have loved to go away to university but it just wasn’t practical.’
‘For what reason?’
‘Money, mainly.’
‘I thought universities in Australia were subsidised?’
‘They are,’ she agreed, lifting a piece of fish from the platter. ‘But I’d have had to move to the city, found a place to rent. Even with governmental assistance, I wouldn’t have been able to afford to live out of home, to cover textbooks and rent.’
‘Your parents left you nothing when they died?’
She felt censure in his voice and her back straightened, defensiveness stirring inside her. ‘They left a little. My aunt and uncle took a stipend each year, and what’s left I can’t claim until I’m twenty-five.’
At this, Leonidas was completely still. ‘Your aunt and uncle took money from you?’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said quietly. ‘They took money to cover the cost of raising me.’
His face showed pure contempt.
‘You think that was wrong?’
A muscle jerked in his jaw and she felt he was weighing his words, choosing what to say with care. She didn’t know him well and yet she felt for herself how uncharacteristic that care was.
‘I do,’ he said finally. ‘Were they struggling financially?’
Hannah shifted her shoulders and repeated the line she’d frequently been given. ‘An extra person is an extra expense.’
He studied her thoughtfully for several seconds, but he evidently decided not to pursue this line of questioning, and she was glad.
Glad because she didn’t like to talk about it, much less think about it.
As a teenager, she’d been able to ignore her niggling doubts, but as she’d grown older, and met more people, she had come to see more and more at fault with the way her aunt and uncle had treated her. A desire to defend them didn’t change reality, and the reality felt an awful lot as if they simply resented her presence in their lives.
She felt it in her heart, but to confess that to Leonidas was too difficult.
‘What would you have studied?’
She relaxed visibly. ‘That’s easy.’
He waited, his eyes not shifting from her face, so that even when their conversation was smoother to navigate, her pulse was still racing.
He had beautiful eyes, but she doubted many women told him that. There were too many other things about him that required mention. His body, his lips, his clever, clever hands. But his eyes were breathtaking. Dark, rimmed with thick black lashes, and when the full force of their focus was given to one’s face, concentration was almost impossible.
‘Am I to guess?’ he prompted, after several seconds.
Heat flooded her cheeks. ‘I wanted to be a lawyer,’ she said, curling her fingers around the stem of her orange juice–filled champagne flute, feeling its fine crystal. ‘Law degrees take years and cost a bomb. The textbooks alone would have bankrupted my aunt and uncle.’ She said it with a smile, as though it were a joke. ‘Becoming a legal secretary was the next best thing. There was a conveyancing firm in another town, just a half-hour drive away. Angus worked there.’ She cleared her throat, sipping her drink. ‘That’s how we met.’
‘I see.’ If it were possible, his expression darkened even further.
‘I loved working at the firm, and I’m good at what I do.’ Pride touched her voice. ‘So maybe everything worked out for the best.’
‘I can’t say I agree with that,’ he drawled, after several long moments. His eyes roamed her face. ‘However, you no longer have any kind of financial impediment to you undertaking a law degree. You will obviously be based here, on the island, but there are many universities that offer degrees via distance. You could enrol in one to start next semester.’
Hannah’s eyes were huge, and she was struck dumb, for many reasons.
‘This island is beautiful,’ she said thoughtfully, trying to imagine her future. ‘But very remote.’
His expression glittered. ‘Yes. By design.’
She nodded, the loss of his family naturally having made him security conscious. Nonetheless, the idea of being stuck here sat strangely in her chest. She liked a tropical paradise as much as the next person, but not without an easy escape route.
Not necessarily for ever. She shelved her thoughts, though. They’d only just arrived. There was time to find her groove as they adjusted to this new life.
‘I love the idea of studying law as much as ever,’ she said sincerely. ‘But I’m kind of going to have my hands full for the next little while…’
‘A baby is not an excuse to turn your back on your dreams,’ he said simply. ‘You will want for nothing, and help will be available whenever you need it. I will be available,’ he added. ‘This is our daughter, not your burden alone.’
Her heart turned over in her chest and his completely unexpected show of support and confidence had her opening a little of herself up to him.
‘I’m nervous, Leonidas.’ She lifted the fish to her mouth, chewing on it while she pulled her thoughts into order. ‘The idea of becoming a mum scares me half to death.’
‘Why?’
‘How can it not? I have no idea what to do, or if I’ll be any good at it. I mean, it’s a baby. I’ve never even had a pet.’
His laugh was just a dry, throaty husk of a sound. ‘A baby is not really anything like a pet, so I wouldn’t let that bother you too much.’
‘You know what I mean. I’ve never had the responsibility of keeping something alive, something totally dependent on me.’
She heard the words a second too late, before she could catch them, but as soon as they landed in the atmosphere she wished she could gobble them right back up. ‘I’m sorry.’ She leaned across the table and put a hand on his, sympathy softening her expression while his own features tightened to the point of breaking.
‘Don’t be. I know what you meant.’
She