And he needed his brain for the coming conversation.
He remembered the moment she’d tripped in those ridiculous heels. Had she fallen on purpose? But played or not, there was going to be no repeat performance, and his dick would have to accept that.
He hadn’t taken much notice of the house the night before, his attention all on Lexi. The road was wide, and the buildings all detached, with big gardens so they stood well back from the street. In an affluent part of the city, close to Hampstead Heath, this place must be worth millions.
But the actual house gave off an air of unkemptness. The wrought iron gates were in need of painting. They were shut, but through them he could make out a badly maintained garden, the lawn overgrown, huge rhododendron bushes overhanging the drive and obscuring the house from his view. Last night she’d said she had a gardener—the man was doing a crap job.
A squeal rang out and a child raced into view, followed by a dog—a three-legged dog, who didn’t seem at all hampered by his disability. They disappeared from sight and Josh frowned, checked the address one more time. Could the child be Lexi’s? Then he realized that he was too old; he must have been eight, at least.
The gate opened when he pushed, and he stepped inside and closed it behind him. Toys littered the lawn, and a swing and slide set stood by the perimeter wall. The house was beautiful. The clean square lines appealed to him, but like the garden it was in definite need of some attention. The red paint of the front door was faded and peeling. A rambling rose, covered in yellow flowers, obscured most of the stonework.
A huge wolfhound-type dog lay on the bottom step; it raised its head as he passed but made no other move. Two cats dozed on the window ledge, and as he halted by the front door, a couple of moth-eaten chickens strutted out from behind a rhododendron. They hopped up the steps and stood, eyeing him up beadily.
Surreal.
He shook his head.
The front door was slightly ajar. Where was the doorbell? When he didn’t find one, he knocked on the wood—
And the door swung open. He could hear the low murmur of voices, but no one came to his knock.
He stepped inside. The hallway was as shabby as the outside of the house, but strangely welcoming. The floors were wooden, the walls dark red and hung at every few feet with paintings of animals. Weirdly bizarre paintings. He was staring at one of a blue and purple cockerel when a door off to the side opened. A woman stood there. Not Lexi. She had to be at least seventy, slender, with long white hair tied back and paint-spattered jeans. Lexi’s mother? Somehow he didn’t think so.
“Joshua?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Lexi expecting you?”
“Not exactly.”
She frowned. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”
…
She slept long and hard and woke with a headache.
They were going to have to talk…again…and she really hoped Josh wasn’t going to be difficult. Maybe he’d still be floating about in a happy post-coital haze. But somehow she doubted she’d be that lucky.
The weird thing was, although she’d thought about it in the car, in the end, she hadn’t had sex to hold him, or to stop him getting the annulment he was so keen on. She’d done it because she wanted him. Just once. He was her fantasy lover. And she hadn’t been able to let go of that fantasy. Not without at least one real memory.
Had it occurred to him that an annulment was no longer a viable option?
Would he be angry?
But really, it had been his fault as much as hers. Even so, she had to remember that Josh wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t her lover. He was a man she had made a business deal with who she just happened to have spent the last few years fantasizing about. In reality, he was nothing to her. And she was nothing to him. Not like all the other people and animals who relied on her.
She had to think of them and find a way to convince Josh to cooperate.
Money was out of the question. He’d clearly done well for himself.
What else could she do? Appeal to his better nature? Did he even have one?
Would he come to see her or was she going to have to see him?
And then there was Harry’s imminent arrival to deal with. Could she put him in the basement? And her grandmother and Daniel’s appointment to get through. The urge to pull the covers over her head and hide overwhelmed her.
“Lexi!”
Someone shouted up the stairs. She couldn’t tell who with the blankets over her head, and she reluctantly pushed them down and waited for more.
“There’s someone to see you.” Jean’s voice shouted up the stairwell.
Her heart sank.
Let the day commence.
…
He watched as Jean came back down the stairs. He’d heard her shout from the first floor landing.
“Lexi will be down in a moment,” she said.
“Thanks.”