Dr Mathieson's Daughter. Maggie Kingsley
away quite happily while he sat in silence, feeling as much use as a lamb chop in a vegetarian restaurant.
Dinner was no better. Nicole ate little, and said less. Jane—bless her—kept up a steady stream of conversation while Nicole valiantly attacked her fish fingers, but it was a relief when his daughter finally pushed her plate away and asked if she could go to bed.
Jane didn’t linger long afterwards. There was plenty she wanted to say. Things like ‘What happened to the famous Mathieson charm?’ And ‘Couldn’t you at least have tried to make some conversation?’ But it would keep.
A lot of things would keep, she decided as she took her pyjamas out of her suitcase and smiled ruefully as she looked at them.
Passion-killers. That’s what Frank had called the men’s red-and-white-striped pyjamas she liked to wear, and she supposed they were, but she liked them, always had. They were cosy on wintry nights, cool on hot summer evenings, and if they were as sexy as a pair of flannelette knickers then so much the better while she was staying with Elliot.
Not that she had anything to fear on that score, she thought wistfully as she changed into them. She was just Jane. Just good old dependable Jane.
And you should thank your lucky stars you are, her mind declared while she brushed her teeth. How long do Elliot’s girlfriends usually last—a month, six weeks? Gussie was doing well at two months. Actually, Gussie was doing incredibly well to have lasted two months.
Sleep, she told herself firmly. Get into bed and get some sleep. And she tried. She really did try, but two o’clock saw her no sleepier than before, and she’d just decided to get up and make herself a cup of tea when she heard it.
The unmistakable sound of a child’s muffled sobs in the silence.
She was out of bed in a second, tiptoeing quickly down the corridor so as not to wake Elliot, but her stealth was unnecessary. He was already awake, already heading in the same direction, and he came to a halt with clear relief when he saw her. She stopped too, but it wasn’t relief she felt. It was an altogether different emotion.
He only wore boxer shorts to bed. Nothing on top at all. Nothing to disguise the fact that his chest was even broader and more muscular than she’d ever imagined. And the boxer shorts…She swallowed convulsively, and resolutely shifted her gaze to his face and kept it there.
‘Nicole’s crying,’ he said unnecessarily.
‘She’ll be missing her mother,’ she managed to reply. ‘Feeling a bit lost.’
‘I guess so.’
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ she continued, half turning to go.
‘Leave me?’ he gasped. ‘But you can’t. I mean, I don’t know what to do!’
‘Elliot, all she needs is for you to hold her, cuddle her!’ she exclaimed, unable to hide her exasperation. ‘How hard can that be?’
‘Can’t you do it?’ he begged.
‘Elliot—’
‘Janey, I told you I wasn’t any good with kids. I’ll only muck it up if I go in there, say the wrong thing.’
‘But—’
‘And I have to get some sleep,’ he continued in desperation, seeing the shock and disapproval in her face. ‘I’ve got a meeting with Admin tomorrow about next year’s budget, and I must have my wits about me.’
For a second she stared at him speechlessly, then she drew herself up to her full five feet one, her grey eyes blazing.
‘Go, then!’ she snarled. ‘Go and get your precious sleep, and I hope you have nightmares. You deserve to, because you sure as hell don’t deserve a lovely little girl like Nicole!’
And he didn’t, she thought furiously when she went into Nicole’s bedroom and gathered the little girl into her arms. He didn’t deserve anybody’s love.
To think that at the airport she’d been stupid enough to wonder if his apparent callousness might be an act. An act he’d adopted because he was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to cope. But it wasn’t an act. He was just selfish to the core.
And as she cradled Nicole to her, holding the little girl tightly until she finally fell asleep, she didn’t know that Elliot remained outside the bedroom door, listening. Didn’t know that as he stood there, his hands clenched against his sides, his forehead leaning against the door, that he felt not only like the biggest heel of all time but also the world’s biggest failure.
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