to the sitting room, and Sarah saw, on entering, that he had poured himself a glass of wine. Ever since he had been on the scene her fridge had been stocked with fine-quality wines, and her cheap wine glasses had been replaced with proper ones—expensive, very modern glasses that she would never have dreamt of buying herself for fear of breakages.
He patted the space next to him, which wasn’t ideal as far as Sarah was concerned but, given that her only other option was to scuttle to the furthest chair, which would completely ruin the mature approach she was intent on taking, she sat next to him and reached for her drink.
‘I think we can say that was a day well spent,’ Raoul began, angling his body so that he was directly facing her and crossing his legs, his hand on his thigh loosely holding his glass. ‘Despite your rant about the state of my apartment.’
‘Sorry about that.’ She concentrated hard on sipping her wine.
He shrugged and continued to look at her, his brilliant dark eyes giving very little away. ‘Why should you be?’
‘I suppose it was a bit rude,’ Sarah conceded reluctantly. ‘I don’t suppose there are very many people who are critical of you …’
‘I had no idea you were being critical of me. I assumed you were being critical of the décor in my apartment.’
‘That’s what I meant to say.’
‘Because you have to agree that I’ve taken every piece of advice you’ve given and done everything within my power to build connections with Oliver.’
‘You’ve been brilliant,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Have you … have you enjoyed it? I mean, this whole thing must have turned your world on its head …’
She hadn’t actually meant to say that, but it was something they hadn’t previously discussed—not in any depth at all. He had accepted the situation and worked with it, but she couldn’t help but remember how adamant he had been all those years ago that the last thing he wanted was marriage and children.
‘You had your whole life mapped out,’ she continued, staring off into the distance. ‘You were only a few years older than the rest of us, but you always seemed to know just what you wanted to do and where you wanted to be.’
‘Am I sensing some criticism behind that statement?’ Raoul harked back to her annoying little summary of the sort of thing she looked for in a man. ‘Fun-loving’ somehow didn’t quite go hand-in-hand with the picture she was painting of him.
‘Not really …’
He decided not to pursue this line of conversation, which would get neither of them anywhere fast. ‘Good.’ He closed the topic with a slashing smile. ‘And, to get back to your original question, having Oliver has been an eye-opener. I’ve never had to tailor my life to accommodate anyone …’
And had he enjoyed it? He hadn’t asked himself that question, but thinking about it now—yes, he had. He had enjoyed the curious unpredictability, the small rewards as he began making headway, the first accepting smile that had made his efforts all seem worthwhile …
‘If it had been any other kid,’ he conceded roughly, ‘it would have been a mindless chore, but with Oliver …’ He shrugged and let his silence fill in the missing words. ‘And, yes, my life had been disrupted. Disrupted in a major way. But there are times when things don’t go quite according to plan.’
‘Really? I thought that only happened to other people.’ Sarah smiled tightly as she remembered all the plans he had made five years ago—none of which had included her. ‘What other times have there been in your life when things didn’t go according to your plan? In your adult life, I mean? Things don’t go according to plan when you let other people into your life, and you’ve never let anyone into your life.’
Okay, so now she was veering madly away from her timetable, but the simmering, helpless resentment she felt after weeks of feeling herself being sucked in by him all over again was conspiring to build to a head. It was as if her mouth had a will of its own and was determined to say stuff her head was telling it not to.
‘I mean, just look at your apartment!’
‘So we’re back to the fact that you don’t like chrome, leather and marble …’
‘It’s more than that!’ Sarah cried, frustrated at his polite refusal to indulge her in her histrionics. ‘There’s nothing personal anywhere in your apartment …’
‘You haven’t seen all of my apartment,’ Raoul pointed out silkily. ‘Unless you’ve been exploring my bedroom when I haven’t been looking …’
‘No, of course I haven’t!’ But at that thought she flushed, and shakily took another mouthful of wine.
‘Then you shouldn’t generalise. I expected better of you.’
‘Very funny, Raoul. I’m being serious.’
‘And so am I. I’ve enjoyed spending time with Oliver. He’s my son. Everything he does,’ Raoul added, surprising himself with the admission, ‘is a source of fascination.’
‘You’re very good at saying all the right things,’ Sarah muttered, half to herself.
Where had her temper tantrum gone? He was refusing to co-operate and now she was reduced to glowering. It took her a few seconds before she brought her mind to bear on the things that needed discussion.
‘But I’m really glad that everything is going so well with Oliver, because it brings me to one of the things I want to say.’ She cleared her throat and wished that he would stop staring at her like that, with his fabulous eyes half closed and vaguely assessing. ‘Oliver has come to like you very much, and to trust you. When he first met you I really thought that it would be a huge uphill struggle for you two to connect. He had no real experience of an adult male in his life, and you had no experience of what to do around young children.’
‘Yes, yes, yes. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know …’
Sarah’s lips tightened and she frowned. She had laid out this conversation in her head and she had already deviated once.
‘It’s terrific that you haven’t seen it all as a chore.’
‘If you’re hoping to get on my good side, then I should warn you that you’re going about it the wrong way. Derogatory remarks about where I live, insinuations that I’m too rigid for parenting … anything else you’d like to throw in the mix before you carry on?’
She thought she detected an undercurrent of amusement in his voice, which made her bristle. ‘I think we should both sit down with Oliver and explain the whole situation. I’m not sure if he’ll fully take it in, but he’s very bright, and I’m hoping that he’ll see it as a welcome development. He’s already begun to look forward to your visits.’ She waited. ‘Or, of course, I could tell him on my own.’
‘No. I like the idea of us doing it together.’
‘Good. Well … maybe we should fix a date in the diary?’
‘“Fix a date in the diary”?’ Raoul burst out laughing, which made Sarah go even redder. ‘How formal do we have to be here?’
‘You know what I mean,’ she said stiffly. ‘You’re busy. I just want to agree on a day.’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Fine.’
‘Shall I get my phone out so that I can log it in?’
‘I’m trying to be serious here, Raoul. After we talk to Oliver I can talk to my parents. I haven’t breathed a word to them, but Oliver’s mentioned you a couple of times when he’s spoken to Mum.’
Nor had she visited her parents in nearly a month. She was used to nipping down to Devon every couple of weekends, and she was guiltily aware that it had