And when Dad died I was dragged into your family, yet another place where I didn’t belong and with a whole bunch of people I didn’t belong with. So I started drawing a house that was mine and only mine. And I thought that one day I would build it for myself and that I’d finally have a place for me.’
Flickers of emotion passed over Xander’s face, gone too quickly for me to be able to tell what they were. ‘And that house you drew? That’s your dream home?’
‘It’s changed over the years. I’ve spent a while perfecting it, but yes. That’s my dream home...’ I trailed off, feeling self-conscious.
But Xander only said, ‘You never felt like you belonged with us?’
There was no reason to hide the truth from him. ‘No. How could I? I was so much younger than you all were and your father’s house... I liked it, Xander, but it wasn’t mine. Your family wasn’t mine either.’
He was silent, never taking his gaze from my face. ‘You lost your home,’ he said eventually. ‘When your father died, you lost your home.’
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Because it was true that the only person I’d ever felt that close to was Dad, and when he died I felt like I’d lost my anchor.
‘He was a good father,’ I said. ‘He cared about me.’
Except at the end, where he hadn’t. He’d left me all alone.
Your fault.
I ignored the whisper. I had to, for my sanity’s sake.
There was a silence, something shifting in the space between us. Something uncomfortable and raw.
Without a word, Xander let me go and turned, striding back around his desk to his seat. ‘Would you mind if I took these designs to Ajax?’ The intensity had drained from his expression, his gaze now guarded. ‘I’d really like for him to see them.’
I felt cold all of a sudden, as if a door to a warm room had closed, cutting off my source of heat. And I found that my hands were clasping my upper arms, as if I was trying to capture and hold the warmth of his fingers on my skin. ‘No,’ I said. Part of me did mind, but I didn’t want to tell him that because that part of me was simply afraid of what Ajax might say. That he might not like my drawings after all.
‘Good.’ Xander sat down, his attention returning to his computer screen once again. ‘Do you have enough to get on with for the rest of the day? Or do you want me to find you something else to do?’
I swallowed, unsettled and not quite sure why. Perhaps it had something to do with the abrupt way Xander had dug beneath my armour, finding a vulnerability I hadn’t expected him to root out and then examined it. Only to turn away as if he’d discovered nothing at all, leaving that vulnerability exposed like a raw wound.
But I didn’t want to talk about it any more so all I said was, ‘I have plenty to keep me busy.’
Then I left his office without another word.
Xander
‘THEY’RE GOOD.’ AJAX’S voice was deep and rough in my ear, and he sounded vaguely offended. ‘Fucking good. Why didn’t you bring her stuff to me sooner?’
I turned, glancing over to where Poppy lay sleeping on my sofa. She was curled up, covered only by the soft grey cashmere blanket I’d found to throw over her. The fabric had fallen away from her shoulders and back, revealing the lovely curve of her spine and elegant shoulder blades. Her skin was golden in the half-light of the late summer evening filtering through the slatted wooden shutters.
Beautiful.
Mine.
‘Because I didn’t know she was that good sooner.’ I kept my voice down so I wouldn’t wake her. ‘So what do you think? She a possibility?’
‘Yeah, Christ. This could be exactly what we’re looking for.’ The sound of a car door slamming filtered through the phone. ‘I’ll email her tomorrow, ask her if she’s interested in getting some sketches to me.’
That was Ajax. Once he decided something, he didn’t muck around.
There was something warm in my chest, a certain kind of pride. In Poppy and her ability, even though it had nothing to do with me. I’d known those sketches were good the second I’d seen them in her book and clearly Ajax agreed.
I couldn’t understand how her professors hadn’t spotted her talent. No, it wasn’t showy or industry changing; it was a far subtler thing than that. But that didn’t make her and her designs any less impressive. They were accessible and that made them gold when it came to building houses people actually wanted to live in.
‘Sounds good,’ I said. ‘I’ll let her know to expect an email then.’
At that moment she gave a soft, sensual-sounding sigh, which was usually a prelude to her waking up.
‘Huh?’ Ajax muttered. ‘Sounds like you’ve got company.’
Damn. The man had the ears of a bat. ‘See you tomorrow,’ I said and ended the call before he could say another word.
I didn’t want to get into any explanations about Poppy just yet. There was no point, not when this was only temporary in any case.
‘Who was that?’
I turned.
Poppy was sitting up, the blanket wrapped around her, blinking at me sleepily.
I moved over to the sofa, throwing my phone carelessly down on the coffee table in front of it then sitting down next to her. ‘Ajax.’
She immediately climbed into my lap, settling herself in the crook of my elbow, her head against my shoulder. ‘Oh? What did he want?’
My chest tightened at her easy familiarity. As if she had every right to curl up in my lap like a little cat. As if that was her rightful place.
I slid an arm around her, holding her close, relishing the warmth of her lovely body against mine. ‘He liked your drawings.’
She blinked then twisted to look up at me. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. He thought they could be just what we’re after for our new apartment complex. He’s going to email you about it tomorrow morning.’
Wonder flickered over her face then it was gone, a shadow taking its place. She looked down at where my hand rested on her stomach. ‘That’s great.’
I frowned. There was a flat note in her voice that puzzled me. ‘What’s wrong? You don’t want him to email you?’
Poppy shook her head, her fall of silky hair brushing over my bare chest, tickling and soft. ‘No, it’s just...’ She stopped, one finger trailing over the back of my hand.
‘It’s just what?’
Her finger began to trace an endless figure eight on my skin. ‘It’s great, don’t get me wrong. But... I don’t want anything given to me.’
I stared down at the perfect lines of her lovely profile, not understanding. ‘What do you mean, given to you? I’m not giving you anything.’
‘You kind of are.’ She turned her head, shooting me a glance from underneath her lashes. ‘You’d never have given Ajax my book if we weren’t sleeping together.’
‘What?’ I had no idea where she was going with this. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘I’m just saying, I don’t want any opportunities given to me because of the fact that we’re sleeping together.’
‘This has got nothing to