In the Australian's Bed. Miranda Lee
of being responsible for a child’s upbringing gives me nightmares.’
Oh, great, she thought. He’s going to be thrilled when he finds out about Alex. It was as well Alex was almost grown up, if that was Jake’s attitude.
‘Why do you say you’d be a dreadful father?’ she asked, though she suspected it had something to do with his childhood. He’d never told her specifics all those years ago, but she’d been left with the impression of serious neglect.
Angelina’s father had always been a right pain in the neck, but he’d never left her in any doubt that he loved her.
‘I’m way too selfish for starters,’ he confessed. ‘And damaged, Dorothy would say. You know the theory. An abused child often becomes an abusive parent. But let’s not talk about life’s little nasties,’ he swept on, brushing aside any further explanation. ‘Let’s talk about you instead. OK, so you don’t want the traditional role of wife and mother. I can accept that. I guess you have got your hands pretty full running this place. A lot of women these days are into the business scene. And careers. Don’t go imagining I’d ever judge you harshly for that.’
‘How generous of you,’ came her caustic retort.
He just smiled at her again, as though amused by her impertinence.
‘So when are you going to dump that loser you’ve been seeing and go out with me?’
Now Angelina did laugh. The man had the hide of an elephant. Exasperated, she decided to prick his ego some more. ‘Alex is no loser. He’s just as good-looking as you are. And just as successful, I might add. In fact, he’s the only son and heir to a veritable fortune.’ Besides being worth millions—property-wise—the Ambrosia Estate ran at a tidy profit each year, with their resort and restaurant very popular, and their wines in high demand over in America and Europe. If Angelina’s plans for expansion into more markets bore fruit, profits could be even higher in future.
‘Not impressed,’ Jake countered confidently. ‘Money is nothing. Attitude is everything. He’s a loser. Because if you were my woman,’ Jake said, and leant closer to her across the table, ‘I’d make damned sure I wasn’t away if you were going to be in Sydney next weekend. You wouldn’t be staying at some hotel on Saturday night, either. You’d be staying at my place.’
His eyes locked on to hers and for the life of her, she could not look away. In the end, she laughed again. It was the only way she could safely draw air into her suddenly starving lungs.
‘But I’m not your woman, am I?’
He leant back in his seat again, still holding her eyes firmly captive with his. ‘What if I said I wanted you to be, more than anything I’ve wanted in a long time? What if I told you to tell this Alex he’s history? What if I asked you to stay at my place next weekend instead of the Casino?’
She should have protested at that point. But she was too enthralled with thinking about what it would be like to spend next weekend with him, staying at his place.
‘I have this wonderful harbourside apartment with all the mod cons and only a short ferry ride to Darling Harbour,’ he went on when she foolishly stayed silent. ‘We could paint the town red on Saturday night, or stay in, if you prefer. Then on Sunday we could have lunch down on the waterfront somewhere. You must surely get a lunch break. Unfortunately, I have to be in court first thing Monday morning, or we could have made it a long weekend.’
Angelina finally found her voice. ‘What is it you expect me to say to these extraordinarily presumptuous suggestions?’
‘Right now? Nothing. I wouldn’t like to be accused of rushing you into anything, like last time. I’ll call you later this week. Or you can call me earlier than that, if you’d like. Here…’ He whipped out his wallet from his jeans and extracted two business cards. ‘You got a pen on you?’
She did, in fact. She kept one in her skirt pocket. She fished it out and gave it to him. He flashed her a quick smile before bending to the task of adding some numbers to the first card before handing it over. ‘That first number is my private and unlisted number at home. The second is my cellphone. Now, write yours down for me on this…’ And he handed her a second card, along with the Biro.
She stared down at the white card which said simply ‘Jake Winters, Lawyer’ in bold black letters, along with an office address and phone number in smaller lettering underneath.
She turned it over and jotted down both her numbers, all the while thinking to herself, what was she doing?
She wasn’t going to say yes to his invitation. How could she? OK, so she was tempted. She was only human. What woman wouldn’t respond to what Jake was making her feel at this moment? As if she was the most beautiful, most desirable girl he’d ever met. What had he said? That he wanted her to be his woman more than anything he’d wanted in a long time.
The devil would be proud of him!
Sixteen years ago, she’d fallen for such a line, hook, line and sinker. Well, she had, hadn’t she? But sixteen years had taught Angelina to recognise the signs of a dedicated womaniser. You didn’t have to have jumped into bed with that type to recognise their trappings. Jake had them all. The car. The clothes. And the charm.
Angelina knew beyond a doubt that being Jake’s woman was only a temporary position, whereas her being Alex’s mother was forever. Allowing herself to be seduced a second time by Alex’s father was just not on.
At the same time, she was curious to learn a little more about him, and his life. This was the man she was going to have to entrust her son to, possibly sooner than she’d anticipated. After all, once Dorothy moved up here and found out dear Angelina at the Ambrosia Estate was a single mum with a fifteen-year-old son who just happened to be the dead spit of Jake, the cat would be out of the bag. And as much as Jake might try to abdicate his responsibilities where Alex was concerned, Angelina knew that her stubborn son would not let him get away with that. No, Alex would force himself into Jake’s life whether Jake wanted it or not.
‘I’m not promising anything,’ she remarked coolly as she handed back the card. ‘But you’re welcome to ring me. I might agree to have lunch with you. Alex wouldn’t mind my having lunch with an old friend.’
‘I’m sure he won’t,’ Jake said as he tucked the card back into his wallet. ‘It’s hardly a grand passion between you two, is it?’
‘You know nothing about my relationship with Alex.’
‘I know enough,’ he stated with an arrogance which was as unsettling as it was wickedly attractive. Why, oh, why did she have to find him so exciting?
Maybe she shouldn’t agree to lunch with him. Even lunch might be a worry, especially down at Darling Harbour, with its air of away-from-home glamour and glitz. Sydney could be a very seductive city. Angelina often found herself losing her head a bit when she was there and spending more money than she should. Especially on clothes. She had a wardrobe full of lovely things she rarely wore.
She would have to weigh up the pros and cons of lunching with Jake before his call. If she thought there was any danger of making a fool of herself, she would not go.
‘I’ll look forward to ringing you,’ Jake said, and slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘Meanwhile, surely you have some questions for yours truly? Don’t you want to know how come I’m a lawyer and not in jail?’
Angelina shook her head at him in frustration. He was like a rolling bulldozer, difficult to stop.
‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me, whether I want to hear or not.’
‘You want to hear,’ he said cheekily. ‘You know you do.’
So Angelina listened—yes, in rapt silence—whilst he told her everything that had happened to him since that fateful night. She marvelled at his good fortune, and couldn’t help feeling a bit proud of him. Both Dorothy and her husband had clearly