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‘Where the hell hasthatcome from?’
‘Nowhere,’ Alice muttered. ‘I’m just tired. Tell me where we’re going.’
‘It’s a surprise but I’m hoping it’ll be a pleasant one.’
He held open the door of his black BMW and she slid into the passenger seat.
Before he started the engine, he turned to her. ‘Okay, spit it out. What’s bothering you?’
‘Nothing’s bothering me.’
‘Think I don’t know you well enough to know when something’s on your mind?’
‘Honestly, Mateo, I’m just tired.’
She was the first to look away, and suddenly Mateo felt the vice-like grip of panic wrap around him. Was this a sign of her pulling away from him? Who knew what those friends and colleagues of hers talked about? Was she slowly being persuaded into taking the hard line that there was no way she would ever consider marriage?
He thought he’d left that door open for her to consider, to come to her senses. But had he? Should he have kept hammering home to her that marriage was the best solution, best for the baby? Should he have played hardball and seduced her into bed with him, put her in a place where walking away would have been a lot more difficult? Should he have ruthlessly exploited the fact that the chemistry wasn’t just confined to him?
Maybe there was someone there, some teacher she was interested in, one of those touchy-feely, sensitive types providing a shoulder for her to cry on.
Unused to such flights of imagination, Mateo didn’t quite know what to do with his thoughts. It took an effort for him to grapple his way back to a position of common sense. He shrugged and started the engine into life, and his powerful car purred away, cutting through the London traffic, heading south away from central London. When he glanced sideways at her, she was staring through the window. He wanted nothing more than to reach inside her head and find out what was going on in there.
They drove in silence, and it was only as they cleared the congested roads of London that she perked up and looked a little more curious about where they were going.
‘I want to show you a house,’ Mateo said, breaking the silence.
‘A house?’
‘You can’t live in a rented place for ever. I’ve personally had a look around this place, and I think it’s a good find. Although naturally, if you don’t like it, then that’s that.’
‘We don’t have the same taste in houses.’
Mateo heard the underlying cool in her voice and gritted his teeth.
‘You like lots of white and marble, stuff with sharp edges—not very toddler-friendly.’
‘My bachelor pad,’ Mateo returned drily, ‘wasn’t meant to be toddler-friendly. I’ve always found I can manoeuvre round table corners without bumping into them and I rarely spill ice lollies on the white marble.’
‘Not funny, Mateo. You might say your lifestyle isn’t toddler-friendly.’
‘Are you determined to pick an argument with me, Alice? And, if you are, then maybe you could explain why so that I can defend myself?’
He pulled away from the main drag and began manoeuvring through the picturesque lanes and streets that circled the sprawl of Richmond Park.
Looking at him, Alice could feel the tension stiffening his shoulders and she knew that she was being unfair. So what if he was out there having a good time? So what if he was doing what he normally did, networking with beautiful blondes? She’d built up an entire scenario around a few photos in a stupid rag and had then needled away at him in a manner that was shamefully passive-aggressive—not like her at all.
He didn’t deserve that. He’d been open and honest with her from the beginning and she could hardly find fault with whatever activities he decided to get up to in his own time. If anything, seeing those photos should have reminded her of his unsuitability long term. The player could never be taken away from the game for too long, and Mateo was a player at heart. Had he reconciled himself to that? The fact that they were in a ‘no touching’ place pretty much said it all.
Determined to be less emotional, she paid attention to where they were and, when he finally pulled up in front of a red-brick Victorian house in its little plot, she was open-mouthed with surprise.
‘Not a single slab of marble in sight,’ Mateo murmured, circling round the car to open her door for her. ‘No sharp edges. Extremely toddler-friendly.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Alice said, looking at him and resting her hand on his arm. ‘I haven’t exactly been great company this afternoon.’
‘To be discussed. Come in, have a look around and tell me what you think.’
Alice forgot about Mateo padding along slightly behind her as she explored the house. It was cosy, with little nooks and crannies leading to rooms in a topsy-turvy, charming way. There were wood floors throughout, and in the downstairs sitting room parquet flooring reminded her of where she had grown up in the vicarage. Outside, the garden was as tangled and charming as the inside had been, a broad stretch of lawn with fruit trees at the back growing against an old brick wall.