HER ONE AND ONLY VALENTINE - (13 page)

Not to mention the fact that they looked at you differently. Mattie had made jokes in private about it, but Kane wasn't that type. Anything he felt ran deep. And the changes in him from when she had known him before made more sense with her new found knowledge. He'd shut himself off, had disappeared from the world, had dealt with it alone—had learnt how to hide his thoughts and emotions from the people around him.

And Rhiannon understood that, maybe better than most. The immediate rapport with Lizzie, the open affection, the complete honesty he had with her—the very things she had been so jealous of—had only made her feel so alone because she so badly needed to be all of those things with Lizzie too.

The realization must have shown in her eyes because Kane frowned in response. 'Thanks, anyway, but I don't need your pity, Rhiannon. I was sick; now I'm not. End of story.'

For all the times he had read her correctly, he was way, way off base with how she was feeling this time. 'I'm not—'

'Yes, you are.'

No, not in the way he thought she was. It wasn't pity; if anything, it was a new found understanding and respect. If she had known back then what she knew now...

Kane took a deep breath, his shoulders rising again as he dragged his large hands out of his pockets. Then he stepped closer and Rhiannon held her breath while she waited to see what he would do next.

She almost sighed as she breathed in the cinnamon scent of him up close. She almost closed her eyes as his closeness overwhelmed her.

He leaned his head in a little, his breath stirring the hair against her neck while he focused on a point past her ear. 'So now you know. As to the spoiling Lizzie issue that we started this with, you'll have to get used to it for a little while. But I'm not trying to buy her affection.'

Rhiannon turned her head slowly, tilting her chin upwards at the same time in one fluid motion so that she could look into his eyes up close. But when she did, she couldn't seem to find words, even ones to reason with him on the subject of spoiling Lizzie. All she could do was stare, as if she was suddenly seeing him for the first time.

Kane's eyes studied her in a similar way, his gaze rising to sweep over the hair against her forehead, over each of her arched eyebrows, from one eye to the other.

And Rhiannon couldn't breathe. She couldn't remember ever wanting someone to kiss her so badly.

But his thick lashes merely brushed against his tanned skin a couple of times before he spoke in a husky whisper. 'I do want her to love me of her own free will. Of course I want that. What father wouldn't?'

'She already does.'

'I hope so. She's the only child I'm ever likely to have, thanks to the cancer.'

They slipped into a routine; one nowhere near as dreadful as Rhiannon had once thought it would be, but not completely comfortable either. Because fairly soon she was all too aware of the fact that she had gone back to relying on Lizzie as a shield.

And that just wasn't right. She should be able to have at least
some
kind of relationship with her child's father, shouldn't she? It had even seemed possible for a fleeting moment—tentative maybe, but a place to start. And true, she was discovering there was much more to like about him than hate, but she still couldn't let herself relax when he was around.

So each day became some kind of test, with a whole new set of thoughts and feelings for her to resolve. She would watch him when he couldn't see her doing it, she would listen carefully to his voice when he spoke, would try to put all the pieces of his personality together so that he made sense to her, all the while so very
aware
of him. Because her nerve-endings would tingle with anticipation when he walked into the room, her pulse would skip through her veins every time his body was close to hers, she would smile without stopping to think about it when he laughed, and most of all her heart would twist when he let his guard down with his child and his affection for her shone in his blue eyes.

Maybe because she now knew that this child he cared so much for might be the only one he ever had and that broke her heart. Lizzie was so amazing—not that her mother was at all biased, of course—but the thought of her being the only one of her there would ever be...

It was almost too painful to think about. Not to mention being too
confusing
to think about, because it'd never occurred to Rhiannon to have another child after Lizzie, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know why she was suddenly so obsessed by the thought of another one.

But none of that was anywhere near as consuming as the ache she felt when she thought of Kane having to fight a battle with his illness alone. If she'd been given the choice, even without love to bind them together, she now accepted that she'd been attached enough to the young man he'd been to have wanted to be there.
Through all of it.

So although only recently she'd been jealous of the time he spent with her daughter, she now found she was jealous of Lizzie's time with
him.
And that was unreasonable as hell from the woman who hadn't been able to stand in the same room as him until very recently.

But she hadn't known then what she knew now.

Meanwhile,
he
had slipped into his role as Lizzie's father as if he'd always been there. He liked taking turns doing the school run, he loved her chatter in the car when they were together and how she would run out through the gates to tell him about her day. He liked spending time doing homework with her, he loved being astounded by her intelligence and her ability to problem solve—the latter another reminder of something he was good at himself. And Rhiannon knew all those things from the chatter around the table at night, which was the time
she
loved the most.

She loved it because they would all sit together in the warm room as Lizzie bounced the conversation back and forth between them all, forcing Rhiannon to laugh out loud when she knew she would have felt awkward letting go that much if it was just Kane there. But even that special time was laced with a bitter sweetness—allowing her a small glimpse of what family life could be like if he was a permanent feature, if things were
different...

So, in between sharing the daily tasks, Rhiannon launched herself wholeheartedly into learning about the intricacies of running a house the size of Brookfield. It kept her mind focused for a few hours each day when their 'buffer' was at school. It was important, she told herself. After all, Kane would be gone soon but Brookfield would remain, even if her owning Brookfield and Kane owning the estate tied them together all over again. Apparently there was no escaping him.

She grew restless after lunch, piles of papers all over the desk in the library testimony to the fact that she still had a long way to go to make sense of everything. And when her head started to ache, she knew she needed a break. It wasn't raining, so she took herself out for a walk to clear her head.

But she didn't get further than the courtyard at the back of the house before she heard a rustling from the stables, where she found Kane.

He had his shirtsleeves rolled up while he threw bales of straw down and then shook them loose. And, mesmerized, she watched the muscles in his forearms moving, watched as he bent down every so often to lift a section that wasn't quite loose enough for him to fork out, while her nerve endings tingled with the familiar sensual awareness.

It was the first time she'd been completely alone with him since she'd made herself so purposefully busy. And a part of her knew she'd be safer just walking away, but she couldn't seem to do it.

'Lizzie will kill you for doing that without her.'

He looked up in surprise, a broad grin immediately forming on his face. 'She'll forgive me when we go get the stupid beast.'

The stupid beast that had been his idea, but Rhiannon had eventually allowed—the one that he'd at least consulted with her on when it had come to the actual selection, which hadn't gone unappreciated. And honestly, if it settled into daily life as well as Winston had, then it would be fine. Though Rhiannon sincerely hoped she wouldn't end up with a pony trailing round the house after her in Lizzie's absence. Not that a pony could be that much larger, realistically.

'You do know she has you wrapped round her little finger, right?'

'Only because I let her think she does.'

The words drew forth an unguarded burst of disbelieving laughter. 'Liar.'

He grinned again. Oh, yes, now she remembered—
this
was when she liked him best, when they could just hold a conversation without there being an undercurrent. Why couldn't he be like this all of the time?

'Be nice now—especially since it just so happens I've been thinking about you.'

Rhiannon's eyes widened.

He continued. 'I was thinking that a computer system for the household accounts might make your life simpler. Lizzie said you had a ton of paperwork.'

And now he was being thoughtful on
her
behalf?
Wow.
What had brought that on? She dropped her gaze briefly to the toe she was using to absentmindedly push loose straw back into the stable. 'It would, actually—I'm going cross-eyed.'

'All right, good.' He grinned again. 'Not to the cross-eyed part, you understand. I'll find someone who can set something tailormade up for you.'

She couldn't help but tease him. 'Are you saying you're too expensive for Brookfield?'

'Well—' he cocked his head to one side, lifting his foot to rest on the pitchfork '—that
is
true, as it happens. But I was thinking that someone closer by would be better, then they can help you with any problems when I'm not here.'

An unexpected cramp cut through her chest. 'Yes, I figured that might be coming. Lizzie will miss you.'

Actually, her mother might too, surprisingly.

'I'll miss her too. But I won't be so far away this time.'

Rhiannon felt the awkwardness returning when the conversation came to a halt. 'Well, I'll leave you to it. I'm just going to take a walk with Winston to clear my head before I go for Lizzie.'

She made a half turn before he stepped forward. 'Or you could give me a hand. That would be helpful.'

Turning back, she watched him make the two long strides it took to get to her, a flutter building in her stomach as he set the pitchfork against the wall and reached for a bottle of water resting between the bars.

All that heavy straw-shaking getting to you?'

'It's taking more bales than I thought it would, but then making a bed for a pony is hardly an everyday occurrence for me.' He unscrewed the lid of the bottle and tilted it to take a long mouthful of water—right in front of her.

So that she really had no choice but to watch his throat convulse as he swallowed, or to notice how the moisture still rested on his bottom lip afterwards. It brought the term 'water torture' to a whole new level.

'You should have let Lizzie do it; she needs to realize that the pony is her responsibility.'

When he didn't reply, her gaze rose, until she was looking into the darkening blue of his eyes. He'd witnessed her study of him, hadn't he? He knew how aware of him she was, didn't he?

Heat rose on her cheeks. Damn.

'You're not the only one whose work was making them cross-eyed.'

Maybe because he was restless too? For the first time Rhiannon wondered if he was missing his life in Dublin. She knew he had a hugely successful business but she didn't know anything about his private life beyond the odd picture she'd seen of him in glossy mags at big social events with various stunning women at his side. But she was curious now.

Was he in a relationship of some kind? Was he between relationships? Did he just have casual affairs when the need was there? Not that his private affairs had anything to do with her, but she was
definitely
curious. After all, if he ever met someone he got serious with, then that woman would be a part of her daughter's life, wouldn't she?

Somehow that idea didn't sit well with Rhiannon.

Kane set the bottle back down. 'Come on; many hands make light work and all that.'

Without hesitation, he reached out and gently grasped her elbow, coaxing her further into the stable. 'You can shake straw over there and I'll shake straw over here and we'll meet in the middle.'

There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

Rhiannon gently extricated her elbow, looking around the floor for sections of straw to shake out. She could manage to spend a little time in his company one on one doing something simple.
Yes, she could.

She heard rustling from Kane's side of the stable and, glancing over, saw that he had already gone back to work. He obviously hadn't an issue with her being there, and if he could make the effort then so could she.

So she rolled up the sleeves of her coat a little and bent down to lift a section of straw. 'I'll need to keep an eye on the time for Lizzie.'

'All right, I'll remind you. This shouldn't take long with both of us at it anyway.'