Read Online The Aristocrat and the Single Mom by Michelle Douglas - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Douglas
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not that into children, that’s all.’
‘Not into kids?’ That’s all?
‘Look, it’s no big deal.’
No big deal?
That’s all!
With those few words, Simon dismantled all the castles in the air she’d built around him since that kiss—that stupid, ridiculous kiss. They fell around her like they deserved to—silently and strangely weightless—whilst she tried to get her head around the extent of her own stupidity.
All her adult life she and her friends had warned each other—don’t mess with the tourists. And here she was messing with the worst kind—the kind that kissed you senseless, made you fall in love with them, took all you had to offer, thenbuggered off back to wherever it was they’d come from without so much as a backward glance. Well, this little black duck wasn’t falling in love with anyone! Not this week.
One—love at first sight was a myth.
Two—hot, steamy kisses did not indicate a warm heart or a good person or anything else of the kind.
Three—Jesse’s happiness took priority over all else. Not that she was in any danger of forgetting that, but it felt good to tell herself all the same.
And four—don’t mess with the tourists!
Simon shifted from one foot to the other. ‘You’re not all right with that, are you?’
She stared at him. Her hands clenched and she started to shake. ‘You have no idea how not all right with that I am. I am so not all right with it that I want you to forget all about taking me out to dinner on Sunday night.’
He stiffened. ‘But I’ve already booked at—’
‘I don’t care if you’ve organised dinner with the Queen!’
‘All because I’m not into children?’
‘That’s right.’ She gave one hard nod.
‘But you and me…can’t we keep that separate—?’
‘Separate!’ She advanced on him. ‘You have no idea, do you?’ Then she had to retreat before she did something stupid like cry.
‘But—’
‘Face facts,’ she ordered, as much to herself as him. ‘You’re not into kids and I have one. I’d say that’s a pretty major problem from the outset, wouldn’t you?’
She seized a tomato and ordered herself not to squash it. ‘Me and Jesse, we’re a package deal. End of story.’
Simon took a step back.
‘Precisely!’ She nodded. Then she picked up her knife and very carefully set about chopping the tomato. When Simon turned and left the room, she refused to waste another moment thinking about him. Not one more thought.
Kate tried to keep things as normal as she could for the rest of the afternoon. Once she’d finished preparing dinner, she, Jesse and Nick put up the tent.
Eventually Simon emerged out of hiding to sit at the outdoor table. She set a beer in front of him. He murmured his thanks, but he didn’t offer to help with the tent.
Not that she, Jesse and Nick needed any help.
She kept up a steady flow of chatter during dinner—again, mostly with Jesse and Nick. She tossed the occasional comment to Simon, but each time she did he’d have to rouse himself and she’d have to repeat what she’d said. In the end she left him to himself.
Which suited her just fine.
A more charitable part of her knew he must be jet lagged. If she’d flown into Sydney from London this morning, jumped straight into a hire car to drive three hours north and had then spent a couple of hours doing handstands and back flips on the beach, she’d be jiggered.
He’d do handstands with her on the beach, but he wouldn’t spare her son even half an hour to play cricket? What kind of Jekyll and Hyde did that make him?
What kind of idiot did that make her? What on earth had possessed her to offer him Felice’s old room? She wanted to take that offer back now, tell him to find some fancy hotel to book into. She wanted to forget how he’d made her feel like a princess in a fairy tale—beautiful, desired…at the centre of his world. It was hard to forget when he sat across the table from her.
The more rational part of
‘Not into kids?’ That’s all?
‘Look, it’s no big deal.’
No big deal?
That’s all!
With those few words, Simon dismantled all the castles in the air she’d built around him since that kiss—that stupid, ridiculous kiss. They fell around her like they deserved to—silently and strangely weightless—whilst she tried to get her head around the extent of her own stupidity.
All her adult life she and her friends had warned each other—don’t mess with the tourists. And here she was messing with the worst kind—the kind that kissed you senseless, made you fall in love with them, took all you had to offer, thenbuggered off back to wherever it was they’d come from without so much as a backward glance. Well, this little black duck wasn’t falling in love with anyone! Not this week.
One—love at first sight was a myth.
Two—hot, steamy kisses did not indicate a warm heart or a good person or anything else of the kind.
Three—Jesse’s happiness took priority over all else. Not that she was in any danger of forgetting that, but it felt good to tell herself all the same.
And four—don’t mess with the tourists!
Simon shifted from one foot to the other. ‘You’re not all right with that, are you?’
She stared at him. Her hands clenched and she started to shake. ‘You have no idea how not all right with that I am. I am so not all right with it that I want you to forget all about taking me out to dinner on Sunday night.’
He stiffened. ‘But I’ve already booked at—’
‘I don’t care if you’ve organised dinner with the Queen!’
‘All because I’m not into children?’
‘That’s right.’ She gave one hard nod.
‘But you and me…can’t we keep that separate—?’
‘Separate!’ She advanced on him. ‘You have no idea, do you?’ Then she had to retreat before she did something stupid like cry.
‘But—’
‘Face facts,’ she ordered, as much to herself as him. ‘You’re not into kids and I have one. I’d say that’s a pretty major problem from the outset, wouldn’t you?’
She seized a tomato and ordered herself not to squash it. ‘Me and Jesse, we’re a package deal. End of story.’
Simon took a step back.
‘Precisely!’ She nodded. Then she picked up her knife and very carefully set about chopping the tomato. When Simon turned and left the room, she refused to waste another moment thinking about him. Not one more thought.
Kate tried to keep things as normal as she could for the rest of the afternoon. Once she’d finished preparing dinner, she, Jesse and Nick put up the tent.
Eventually Simon emerged out of hiding to sit at the outdoor table. She set a beer in front of him. He murmured his thanks, but he didn’t offer to help with the tent.
Not that she, Jesse and Nick needed any help.
She kept up a steady flow of chatter during dinner—again, mostly with Jesse and Nick. She tossed the occasional comment to Simon, but each time she did he’d have to rouse himself and she’d have to repeat what she’d said. In the end she left him to himself.
Which suited her just fine.
A more charitable part of her knew he must be jet lagged. If she’d flown into Sydney from London this morning, jumped straight into a hire car to drive three hours north and had then spent a couple of hours doing handstands and back flips on the beach, she’d be jiggered.
He’d do handstands with her on the beach, but he wouldn’t spare her son even half an hour to play cricket? What kind of Jekyll and Hyde did that make him?
What kind of idiot did that make her? What on earth had possessed her to offer him Felice’s old room? She wanted to take that offer back now, tell him to find some fancy hotel to book into. She wanted to forget how he’d made her feel like a princess in a fairy tale—beautiful, desired…at the centre of his world. It was hard to forget when he sat across the table from her.
The more rational part of
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