There were so many of them. Andie’s introduction had guaranteed all eyes were on him. About ten people, including kids, were ranged around the room, sitting in comfortable-looking sofas or around a large trestle table.
Each face came into focus as the adults greeted him with warm smiles. It wasn’t difficult to tell who was related—Andie’s smile was a strong family marker that originated with her father, a tall, thin man with a vigorous handshake. Her mother’s smile was different but equally welcoming as she headed his way from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron before she greeted him. Three young children playing on the floor looked up, then kept on playing with their toys. A big black dog with a greying muzzle, lying stretched out near the kids, lifted his head, then thumped his tail in greeting.
Andie’s sister Hannah and her husband, Paul, paused in their job of setting the large trestle table to say hello. His experience with social workers in his past had been good—a social worker had pretty much saved his life—and he was not disappointed by Hannah’s kind eyes in a gentle face.
‘I straight away know of several families who are facing a very grim Christmas indeed,’ she said. ‘Your generous gesture would make an immense difference to them.’
Andie caught his eye and smiled. Instinctively, he knew she had steered him in the right direction towards her sister. If all Andie’s ideas for his party were as good as this one, he could face the Christmas Day he dreaded with more confidence than he might have expected.
* * *
Andie’s policy of glaring down any family member who dared to even hint at dating possibilities with Dominic was working. Except for her younger sister, Bea, who could not resist hissing, ‘He’s hot,’ at any opportunity, from passing the salad to refilling her water glass. Then, when Andie didn’t bite, Bea added, ‘If you don’t want him, hand him over to me.’ Thankfully, Dominic remained oblivious to the whispered exchanges.
Her family had, unwittingly or not, sat Dominic in the same place at the table where Anthony had sat at these gatherings. Andie and Ant—always together. She doubted it was on purpose. Dominic needed to sit between Hannah and her and so it had just happened.
In the years since he’d died, no man had come anywhere near to replacing Anthony in her heart. How could they? Anthony and she had been two halves of the same soul, she sometimes thought. Maybe she would never be able to love anyone else. But she was lonely. The kind of loneliness that work, friends, family could not displace.
In the months after Anthony’s death her parents had left Anthony’s customary seat empty out of respect. Unable to bear the emptiness that emphasised his absence, she had stopped coming to the family dinners until her mother had realised the pain it was causing. From then on, one of her brothers always occupied Anthony’s chair.
Now she told herself she was okay with Dominic sitting there. He was only a client, with no claim to any place in her heart. Bringing him along tonight had worked out well—one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions she mightn’t have made if she’d given it more thought.
Dominic and Hannah had spent a lot of time talking—but he’d managed to chat with everyone else there too. They were obviously charmed by him. That was okay too. She was charmed by him. Tonight she was seeing a side of him, as he interacted with her family, that she might never have seen in everyday business dealings.
Her sister was right. Dominic was hot. And Andie was only too aware of it. She was surprised at the fierce urge of possessiveness that swept over her at the thought of ‘handing over’ Dominic to anyone else. Her sister could find her own hot guy.
Even at the dinner table, when her back was angled away from him to talk to her brother on her other side, she was aware of Dominic. His scent had already become familiar—citrus-sharp yet warm and very masculine. Her ears were tuned into the sound of his voice—no matter where he was in the room. Her body was on constant alert to that attraction, which had been instant and only continued to grow with further contact. On their way in, in the corridor, when she’d drawn close to whisper so her family would not overhear, she’d felt light-headed from the proximity to him.
It had been five years now since Anthony had gone—the same length of time they’d been together. She would never forget him but that terrible grief and anguish she had felt at first had eventually mellowed to a grudging acceptance. She realised she had stopped dreaming about him.
People talked about once-in-a-lifetime love. She’d thought she’d found it at the age of eighteen—and a cruel fate had snatched him away from her. Was there to be only one great love for her?
Deep in her heart, she didn’t want to believe that. Surely there would be someone for her again? She didn’t want to be alone. One day she wanted marriage, a family. She’d been looking for someone like Anthony—and had been constantly disappointed in the men she’d gone out with. But was it a mistake to keep on looking for a man like her teenage soulmate?
Thoughts of Dominic were constantly invading her mind. He was so different from Anthony there could be no comparison. Anthony had been blond and lean, laidback and funny, always quick with a joke, creative and musical. From what she knew of Dominic, he was quite the opposite. She’d dismissed him as not for her. But her body’s reaction kept contradicting her mind’s stonewalling. How could she be so certain he was Mr Wrong?
Dessert was being served—spring berries and home-made vanilla bean ice cream—and she turned to Dominic at the precise moment he turned to her. Their eyes connected and held and she knew without the need for words that he was happy with her decision to bring him here.
‘Your family is wonderful,’ he said in a low undertone.
‘I think so,’ she said, pleased. ‘What about you? Do you come from a large family?’
A shadow darkened his eyes. He shook his head. ‘Only child.’
She smiled. ‘We must seem overwhelming.’
‘In a good way,’ he said. ‘You’re very lucky.’
‘I know.’ Of course she and her siblings had had the usual squabbles and disagreements throughout their childhood and adolescence. She, as number four, had had to fight for her place. But as adults they all got on as friends as well as brothers and sisters. She couldn’t have got through the loss of Anthony without her family’s support.
‘The kids are cute,’ he said. ‘So well behaved.’
Her nephews, Timothy and Will, and her niece, Caitlin, were together down the other end of the table under the watchful eye of their grandmother. ‘They’re really good kids,’ she agreed. ‘I adore them.’
‘Little Timothy seems quite...delicate,’ Dominic said, obviously choosing his words carefully. ‘But I notice his older cousin looks after him.’
A wave of sadness for Hannah and Paul’s little son overwhelmed her. ‘They’re actually the same age,’ she said. ‘Both five years old. Timothy just looks as though he’s three.’
‘I guess I don’t know much about kids,’ Dominic said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
She lowered her voice. ‘Sadly, little Timothy has some kind of rare growth disorder, an endocrine imbalance. That’s why he’s so small.’
Dominic answered in a lowered voice. ‘Can it be treated?’
‘Only with a new treatment that isn’t yet subsidised by the public health system. Even for private treatment, he’s on a waiting list.’ It was the reason why she drove an old car, why Bea had moved back home to save on rent, why the whole family was pulling together to raise the exorbitant amount of money required for tiny Timothy’s private treatment.
But she would not tell Dominic that. While she might be wildly attracted to him, she still had no reason to think he was other than the