He swallowed, the regret still an ache in his chest. “I didn’t try. I saw her and she was so goddamned beautiful—blond-haired and blue-eyed like me.” And like his mum. “She must have been thirteen then. I went to the house—it was a great fucking mansion out in Surrey—and watched from a distance. She had a pony and a real family and she was so fucking happy. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t spoil that. I had nothing to offer her.”
He’d stood in the shadow of some trees and watched her for what seemed an age. It was a good thing no one had noticed him, but he hadn’t been able to drag himself away. Part of him had been happy for her, but it had been a bittersweet feeling, all mingled with loss and resentment that these people were everything he was not. It meant finally acknowledging the dream was really over, and feeling the emotions draining from him as he’d accepted that she was better off without him. She was so obviously happy, and no way could he jeopardize that. The truth was he’d needed her far more than she needed him, and he’d be selfish to impose himself on her now. He’d been so goddamned hopeful. That had been a mistake, and it had nearly broken him.
Never again.
“So I walked away—used the money to start the business, and forgot her.”
“Of course you didn’t forget her. She’s still there in your heart.” She thought for a moment. “That was five years ago. She must be nearly eighteen now.”
“Next week.”
“Well, there you go. At eighteen, adopted children have the right to know the details of their birth families. You can contact her. Tell her you’d like to see her.”
“There’s no point.”
“Of course—”
“Change the subject, Lexi.” He’d said good-bye that day. He wasn’t laying himself open to that again. What could they possibly have in common after all these years? It was better left alone. “Tell me something about you.”
She clamped her lips closed. He could almost see the mental turmoil; she didn’t want to let it go. Then she sighed. “Okay—something about me. I’ve spent the last five years fantasizing about you.”
Chapter Ten
Shock punched him in the gut. “What?”
“Don’t panic.” Lexi shrugged. “I had to fantasize about someone. And you were my husband, after all. And Josh, you’re pretty hot. You were perfect fantasy material.” She grinned and drained the last of her coffee. “Of course, that was before I got to know you better.” She pushed her empty cup away. “Now, maybe we’d better head home.”
She thought he was hot?
He glanced out the window. The streetlights had come on, edging out the darkness. But he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to hear more about her fantasies. He was pretty sure she’d only said that to take his mind off Evie. And it had worked. What sort of things did she fantasize about?
He sat back, stretching his arms along the back of the bench seat, studying her. Her hair was trying to escape from the messy ponytail; her face was totally free of makeup, her lips pink and full. What were the chances she had ever fantasized about blow jobs? “Tell me one of your fantasies first.”
Her eyes widened, a flush staining her cheeks. “No way.”
“Come on, Lexi, I’ve opened up my heart to you. The least you can do is give me a hint of what we’ve been up to together all these years.”
She opened her mouth, closed it again, sat for a moment. “Honestly, I can’t.”
“Let me help.” He thought how to ease her into this, because he needed to know. “Have we done it in your four-poster bed?”
She gave a quick nod.
“Did I tie you up?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course not.”
“No ‘of course’ about it. That’s what four-posters are for.”
“Anyway. Why should I be the one tied up? Maybe I should tie you instead.”
His head filled with an image of him spread-eagle on the bed, wrists and ankles tied while Lexi had her evil way with him. She’d be torturing him, tormenting, teasing with her hands and her mouth. His cock jerked. He swallowed, cleared his throat. “I can work with that. Where else?”
She colored a little more. “On the beach and in the sea.”
“Sand gets everywhere. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Don’t spoil my fantasies.”
He took a deep breath. They needed to get out of there. He didn’t know where they needed to be, but not here. Desire had been simmering under the surface since he’d first touched her on the stairs earlier. He might tell himself it had been merely for show. But he’d always believed in facing up to the truth.
He was hot and hard for his own wife.
And really, there was nothing to stop them. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t done it before. The annulment was never going to happen. They could have sex and still get a divorce when the six months were over, and by then they’d have this inconvenient attraction behind them.
Over the last two days, he’d started looking at other women, trying to imagine them in sexual situations and totally failing. Sally, his secretary, had asked him what the hell he was staring at, just that afternoon.