CHAPTER SEVEN

NYAS BEDROOM WAS something of a surprise, and yet very much like her. Bright and cheerful, eclectic yet quite traditional when it came to the furniture and patterns.

Somehow, knowing how Afro-centric her mother was, Theo had half expected the décor to lean in that direction. But, rather, William Morris-esque curtains, mid-century modern furniture, and pops of colour proclaimed that Nya’s style was whatever she happened to like, rather than a set pattern.

He liked it. A lot.

Even though entering into what was her private space also gave him more of those untoward thoughts he was continually battling whenever they were together. His eyes gravitated towards her neatly made bed, and he quickly jerked them away, looking instead at the cot.

Hope was fast asleep, and hadn’t even stirred when he turned on the light. Going to stand over her, Theo touched her cheek, then her tightly curled fist, with one finger. How tiny and vulnerable she looked and was. His heart ached each time he thought about what might become of her.

Even if they found her mother, would the woman be fit to take back her baby, or would Hope end up one of the hundreds of children entering the foster system? Staying in it until they aged out. Never knowing a truly loving home.

A part of him wanted to rail at the thought. To swear it would never happen on his watch. Yet, he knew, in this case, he had no real power over the situation. Whatever was to happen, he’d have to wait and see.

Knowing there were no answers to be found tonight, he bent to press a kiss to Hope’s hair, and turned to leave the room.

A picture on the bedside table caught his eye, and he paused, staring at it.

This, then, was Nya’s husband, James. Jim, she’d always called him, the few times she’d spoken of him in Theo’s presence.

A tall, well-built man, broad of shoulders and thick of neck. Obviously in perfect physical shape, if this full-body shot was anything to go by. Dressed in his army uniform, he could have been an overawing sight, except for the absolute delight on his face as he grinned at the camera.

Nya usually gave one of her delicious little giggles when she talked about him. He was, she’d once said, a man who never seemed to have a bad day. He brought joy and laughter with him wherever he went.

Why looking at the picture made Theo’s chest tighten was inexplicable, and when he turned away to exit the room, he couldn’t help glancing back once more, before he turned off the light.

Trying hard to battle a sudden surge of resentment against a man simply because he was loved so deeply, and for so long.

‘Still sleeping peacefully?’ Nya asked as Theo walked back into the living room, having paused in the hall to compose himself.

‘Like the little angel she is,’ he replied, wondering why he was so reluctant to say goodnight and go home. Of course, it was because he had nothing to rush home for, did he?

‘Sit down. Can I offer you a cuppa? Or a drink?’

Suddenly relieved that she wasn’t kicking him out just yet, he opted for a cup of tea. When he moved back towards the dining table, she waved him towards the fireplace instead.

‘Can you put a match to that for me? It’s getting cool in here, and a fire will make sure Hope doesn’t get a chill.’

‘Funny how things have changed over the years, isn’t it? Before the 1990s, the norm was cover baby with a blanket, put her on her stomach, and leave all her stuffed toys in the crib with her. Nowadays, it’s dress baby warmly and put her to sleep on her back with nothing whatsoever in the crib.’

Nya made a little sound of assent in her throat.

‘Everything changes, especially in light of new research. How are Gillian and TJ? Are they coming for Christmas?’

He didn’t look up from the fireplace, glad she wouldn’t be able to read his expression.

‘Not this year.’ He hesitated, and then decided he might as well tell her the rest. ‘I don’t know if you heard, but Femi got married a couple of months ago. She and her new husband are having a big family get-together, and TJ and Gillian will be going to that.’

Nya didn’t comment right away, but he heard the rattle of teacups and pot as she walked back into the room.

Putting the tray down on the occasional table in front of the love-seat, she sat down, and he thought he could feel her gaze on him, making a little shiver run down his spine.

‘I didn’t know about her marriage.’ Thank goodness there was no sympathy in her tone, just a deeply contemplative note. ‘I tried to reach out to her a few times since she left, but she never replied, so I stopped. Well, if you don’t have any plans, you can spend Christmas with Mum and me. And Hope, of course, if she’s still here.’

Her thoughtfulness made him smile, and feel able to get up and face her, instead of hiding.

‘I’d like that. Especially if Hope is still in our care. It’ll be her first Christmas, and she deserves a good one.’

The fractional tightening of the skin around her eyes was the only indication of anything untoward, since her mouth was still smiling, but he knew how she felt. He didn’t want to contemplate giving up Hope either, although he knew they’d have to, eventually.

Wanting to take Nya’s mind off the subject, he heard himself say, ‘You know, when I think back on all the holidays I missed with my children, I really regret it now. I let my work consume me, to their detriment.’

Her eyes widened. ‘But surely you don’t believe that’s true?’

‘It is true.’ Sitting down beside her on the love-seat, he turned slightly so he was facing her, his arm along the back. It wasn’t the largest couch in the world, and he was suddenly aware of the heat of her leg against his, the proximity of her hair to his hand.

If he could have shifted away without it being obvious, he probably would have, but since that wasn’t an option, he held still.

‘Why do you think so, Theo?’

When she looked at him like that, with that clear-sighted gaze, he felt as though he would tell her anything she wanted to know.

Even his deepest shame.

‘I know it’s true, because I lived it. I was so determined to make sure they had everything they needed—stability, financial security, someone showing them how to be a productive citizen of the world—that I sacrificed my home life.’

She tilted her head. ‘But those things are important. Why should you feel guilty about providing them?’

‘Yes, they are important, and I know that because it’s the complete opposite to how I grew up. My father was a shiftless bastard, who rarely worked. And when he did get a job, he spent all his money drinking and gambling. I promised myself I’d never turn out that way, and worked hard to make sure of it.’

Even to his ears his voice sounded choppy—uneven—but he couldn’t stop the spate of words.

‘That I’d never endanger my family by putting my pleasures before their needs. But there’s a line between being successful and letting that success be everything in your life, and I crossed it.’

Nya’s lips pursed, and when she leaned forward to pour the tea, he wished he could see her face.

‘And what’s your relationship with them like now?’

‘Good,’ he said, surprised at what he thought was a change of subject. ‘I spoke to them just last night. TJ wants to come and visit between Christmas and New Year, if he can manage it. The engineering degree he’s taking at Cambridge is intensive, but his marks have been amazing.’

‘And Gillian?’

He couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face as he took the proffered cup from Nya’s hand.

‘She’s doing brilliantly. She’s working for a fertility clinic in London as a researcher, but I think she may opt to go back to school to become a doctor eventually.’

Nya took a sip of tea, her eyes downcast. Then, when she lowered the cup and turned to look at him, he was surprised at the tenderness in her gaze.

‘Theo, stop being so darn hard on yourself. You’ve helped to raise two wonderful young people, who love and admire you. Can’t you give yourself credit for that?’ Before he could respond, she raised her hand to stop him, and a soft smile tipped the edges of her mouth. ‘I don’t know if you realise, but my father died when I was eleven, and Mum raised me by herself. Now, you think you’re driven? I wager my mum would run circles around you in that respect. She was determined to get a professorship, and was always studying and writing books to make that happen. Then it was getting the university to create an African studies course. She was determined and focused but, at the same time, she was raising me. It wasn’t always a successful combination.’

She was smiling, but he felt his heart clench. He wanted to know how that had affected her, but the words stuck in his throat, fear of what she might say keeping them there.

Nya took another sip of her tea, then reached to put the cup down, before she continued.

‘Yes, there were times when I resented her not being at home, or was hurt when she’d missed a special occasion at school, but I also always knew she was there. Available to me if I needed her. And she was the very, very best role model I could have ever had. She taught me that if you want something, you have to work hard for it, and sacrifice too, if that’s what was necessary.

‘Your children know you’re there for them. They watched you work hard and strive to make their lives comfortable—to give them the opportunities they’re enjoying now. I know I saw you at rugby matches, and at concerts in the hall when they were performing. If you were as much of an absentee father as you seemed to think, you wouldn’t have bothered with any of that, so cut yourself some slack.’

Her words, coupled with that sweet, gentle look in her eyes, made his heart swell, and then begin to race. Unable to resist, he touched her cheek with the back of his hand, and almost groaned at the softness of her skin.

He wanted to thank her, to tell her how much he’d needed to hear what she’d said. How suddenly free he felt, as though she’d let loose a rope that had been slowly squeezing the life out of him, allowing him—for the first time in months—to take a deep, cleansing breath.

But none of those words emerged from his mouth, because by then he was too busy kissing her, and all thoughts of talking fled.


Nya didn’t move, as Theo’s lips touched down on hers, but her immobility lasted only for a moment. Then her arms went up around his neck, and she was pulling him closer, deepening the kiss herself, as need exploded out into every vein and muscle in her body.

She’d tried so hard not to imagine what it would be like to kiss Theo, but now she had to acknowledge that no matter what she might have come up with, it would never have been enough.

His lips were softer than she’d have imagined.

Their firmness and mastery couldn’t have been dreamt up accurately.

The first sweep of his tongue across the seam of her mouth was hotter, slicker, more arousing than any fantasy could ever be.

Was this what they meant when they talked about melting into someone’s arms? It felt like it, as her skin grew hot and so sensitive that when Theo’s hand curved around her nape, it sent energy surging into her trembling belly.

He gentled the pressure on her mouth fractionally, sucking on her lower lip, nipping at it with his teeth, and there was no stopping her moan of desire.

Then the kiss turned wild, a frantic tangle of tongues, as their breath rushed and her heart beat so hard and fast, she could hear it in her ears.

He leaned forward, tilting her back against the arm of the love-seat, and she didn’t resist, wanting to know where this was going. Wanting to feel the hard press of his body against hers.

Wanting him in a way she’d never wanted before.

And then, a shrill wail rent the air, and they both froze.

Instinctively, Nya’s hands fell to Theo’s heaving chest and pushed. Immediately he pulled back, his arms falling from around her, leaving her suddenly cold. And as she stumbled to her feet, she realised she was shaking from head to toes.

Theo’s hand came up, as though to steady her, and she sidestepped out of reach. She should say something—make a pithy comment or something trite—but nothing sensible came to mind, so she did the only thing she could think of.

She fled to the bedroom to scoop up the crying infant and hug her close.

‘You’re okay, sweetie. There’s a good girl,’ she crooned, hearing the wavering in her voice. Her tension must have transmitted itself to Hope, since the little girl stiffened and cried harder, rather than relaxing the way she usually would.

Taking deep breaths, Nya rocked Hope, trying to get her own heart rate down. It wasn’t time for a feed yet, so once Hope calmed a little, Nya quickly laid her down and changed her nappy.

Hope stopped crying, and Nya was contemplating if she had the nerve to go back into the living room, when she heard the unmistakable sound of her front door closing and knew Theo had slipped away.

Blowing out a long, hard breath, she plunked down on the end of her bed, putting Hope on her shoulder in her favourite position for falling asleep.

She’d kissed Theo.

Theo!

And not just kissed him but enjoyed it in a way that left her shaken and aroused, aching for the type of physical contact she hadn’t had—or wanted—in ages.

Closing her eyes, she relived the moments, imagined it continuing, becoming more intimate.

Theo’s hands and mouth exploring her body, touching and slipping, increasing her need until it reached fever-pitch...

Pulling her thoughts back from where they’d so wantonly taken her was far too difficult, but Nya knew she couldn’t afford to let them stray too far along that path.

None of this was or could be real. Theo was going through a difficult time, and no matter who objected, or thought she should move on, her heart belonged to Jim, and no one else.

Theo and her being thrown into close proximity because of their shared care of Hope, at this particular time in their lives, had created an anomalous situation. Once things went back to normal, they’d both be left considering what on earth they’d been thinking, kissing like that.

It was wrong—for both of them—but as she lay down on her bed, still cuddling Hope and looking at Jim’s picture, she wondered why it felt so very right all the same.