His Convenient Mistress Read Free Page B

unblinkingly at their visitor. ‘Simon, how many times have I told you that you should wear your slippers around the house?’ By way of reply, he popped his thumb into his mouth and continued to inspect James curiously. ‘Being barefoot is so much easier, isn’t it?’ James said, stooping down until he was on the same level as the boy.
    What was the story here? he wondered. Having planned to call on this woman so that he could find out how serious she was about living in the Rectory and how much he would be prepared to give her to buy her out, had even planned on suggesting other parts of the town where she could live if she wanted, he now found himself holding back on stating the reason for his visit in preference to discovering more about the red-haired woman and her child.
    â€˜Um,’ Simon agreed, still sucking on his thumb.
    â€˜So you’ve built a garage? Anything I would want to send my own cars to?’
    â€˜Do you have children, Mr Dalgleish?’
    James glanced up at her. ‘Child-free.’
    Now, I wonder why I’m not surprised at that, Sara thought. Lord, but how long would it take for her to get over the bitterness that still burned the back of her throat at the thought of Simon’s father?
    â€˜How about that cup of coffee?’ He stood up with a questioning look and Sara felt a little shiver race along her spine. It was almost as though he could read her mind and was calmly determined to stay his ground in the face of her reluctance. And she had to stop being reluctant. She knew that. She would have to go into the town sooner rather than later, if only to buy provisions for herself and Simon, and she would have to meet her new neighbours. Hiding was not an option.
    â€˜Come in.’ She smiled another tightly polite smile while he headed through the door with the familiarity of someone who knew the place.
    As he would, she thought. In a place of this size, everyone would know everyone else. From the looks of him, he was probably the local professional. A banker or a lawyer of some sort who fancied himself a cut above the rest.
    She poured juice for Simon, who hovered by the table and ignored his slippers, which were by the chair. His baggy, long shorts made his thin legs seem even thinner and she reminded herself that he was the reason she had moved up here.
    â€˜Now, shall I come and put on a video for you, Simes? Your favourite cartoon, perhaps?’
    â€˜Can you play with me?’ he asked hopefully, and she shook her head with a grin.
    â€˜Nice try. I’m just going to have a quick cup of coffee with Mr Dalgleish and then maybe we can go out and do some gardening. I’ll let you use the watering can.’
    â€˜The big one?’
    â€˜If you can handle it.’
    â€˜I have some soil.’ Simon turned gravely to James. ‘For planting vegetables.’
    â€˜Really?’ He didn’t know much about children but this boy was so serious and so thin . He looked as though one wisp of a Scottish breeze would blow him off his feet, never mind the harshness of winter. ‘Any in particular?’
    â€˜Beans.’
    â€˜Would those be baked beans?’ James grinned and for the first time Simon smiled, a wide smile that brought a light to his face.
    â€˜With sausages and chips,’ he said, giggling.
    Sara felt something uncomfortable tug inside her and she frowned at James. ‘Come on, Simes. Let’s go and see what video we can put on for you.’ She held out her hand and curled her fingers around her son’s little ones.
    When she returned to the kitchen it was to find that coffee had been made and was waiting for her. James was sitting at the kitchen table, his body turned away from her as he looked out of the French doors, which were sprawled open on to the front garden that rolled down towards the lane at the bottom and open countryside beyond that.
    It was funny, but the house had felt so damned hollow