more guarded as he stepped further into the kitchen. ‘Just coffee is fine, thanks,’ he answered as he moved to sit opposite Daisy. ‘How are you this morning, Daisy-flower?’ His voice noticeably softened as he spoke to the little girl.
Sam efficiently poured coffee into a mug and placed it in front of him before collecting up Daisy’s empty plate and returning to tidy up the stove top, her back turned towards the room as tears blurred her vision.
This was awful. Worse than she had even imagined it might be.
In her imaginings there had at least been a stilted conversation between herself and Xander, in which he would say something like you were right, last night was a bad idea, and Sam would urge him to forget about it, as she already had.
The fact that Daisy was present this morning, and would be all weekend, was going to make even that brief conversation difficult, if not impossible.
And Sam wasn’t sure her already frayed nerves could take the added tension, especially if Xander decided to spend time with them this weekend.
Because they weren’t a normal family. And they never could be.
Xander’s past record, of having been involved with a legion of women, clearly spoke for itself, and he certainly hadn’t made any rash declarations of love to Sam the evening before. He hadn’t needed to, she reminded herself, after she had made it more than obvious she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.
She had been a willing scratch to Xander’s itch, at best. And the fact that he meant so much more to her than that wasn’t his problem.
That was something Sam definitely intended keeping to herself.
Xander would run a mile if he thought for one moment that she had feelings for him. Worse, that she had been stupid enough to fall in love with him.
Just the thought of leaving Xander at the end of next week, of never seeing him again, was enough to break her heart.
‘Daisy, how about I put a cartoon on for you?’ Xander suggested lightly as he stood up, very aware of the fact that Samantha was keeping her back turned towards the two of them for a reason; the slight shaking of her shoulders, and the occasional soft sniff he could hear, clearly indicating that she was crying.
Could he feel any more of a heel than he already did? Xander wondered heavily as he accompanied Daisy into the television room and put a film on for her.
He had taken advantage of Samantha last night. Had used her emotions against her—fear of her ex-husband? Her gratitude for Xander’s help? The compassion she felt for his past? Take your pick! And then he’d forgotten all of those things in order to take what he wanted.
The fact that Samantha had left his bed before he had woken up, that she was crying this morning, had to mean that she regretted what had happened between the two of them last night.
And Xander had no idea how to put things right between them.
Did he apologise and tell her that he knew and accepted that last night had been a mistake?
Even if it hadn’t been?
Did he promise her it would never happen again?
A promise, desiring her as much as he still did, that Xander knew he couldn’t keep.
Or did he put her through the even worse embarrassment of being the one to speak first about last night?
No, that last definitely wasn’t going to happen; it would totally humiliate Samantha, and that was the last thing Xander ever wanted her to feel in regards to him or their lovemaking.
What he had wanted to happen was for the two of them to wake up in each other’s arms this morning, to make mind-blowing love again, before they discussed exactly where they were going to go with their relationship.
Except Samantha had already left when he’d woken up this morning.
Consequently there had been no opportunity for a repeat of the night before.
Both of those things telling him that, as far as she was concerned, at least, there was also no relationship for the two of them to discuss.
At the same time as Xander knew they couldn’t continue to live together for the next week without one or both of them saying at least something about last night. Acknowledging that it had happened, at least. Not to do so would be juvenile. And their actions last night had been anything but that.
‘I’m just going back to the kitchen to have a chat with Mummy, okay, Daisy?’ he told the little girl lightly as he raised the volume on the television.
‘Okay.’ Daisy nodded distractedly, her attention already focused on the animated film on the screen.
Xander closed the door softly behind him as he stepped out into the hallway, drawing in a deep breath once he was outside; he wasn’t in the least looking forward to the next few minutes’ conversation with Samantha. Or what the outcome of that conversation would mean for the two of them.
Any thoughts of that conversation fled his head the moment he walked back into the kitchen and saw how deathly pale Samantha’s face was as she stood as still as a statue, the telephone receiver about to fall from her limp fingers.
‘Samantha?’ Xander quickly crossed to where she stood to look down searchingly into that pale face as he took that receiver from her and placed it back on the wall, frowning darkly as he saw the pain in those dark amethyst eyes as Samantha stared off into the distance. ‘Samantha?’
The way she now looked up at him so blankly, as if she not only didn’t see him, but was having trouble even remembering who he was, wasn’t in the least reassuring.
Xander lightly clasped the tops of her arms as a way of gaining her attention. ‘Samantha!’
‘Security just called from Reception downstairs.’ She spoke flatly, not an ounce of emotion in her voice as she continued to look up at him blankly.
‘And?’ he prompted tensely as Samantha didn’t add anything to that statement.
She blinked, seeming to come out of her stupor slightly as she finally focused on him. ‘Malcolm is downstairs.’
‘He is?’
She nodded. ‘And apparently he told Security that he has no intention of leaving until he’s spoken to one or both of us.’
Xander had known this confrontation was inevitable, had deliberately designed this situation so that Howard would make him the target rather than Samantha and Daisy.
He just hadn’t expected it to be this morning, and before he’d even had a chance to talk to Samantha about last night.
MAYBE IF HE hadn’t been so caught up, so blinded by his desire for Samantha and the need he felt to protect her, he would have realised that the bombastic Malcolm Howard was arrogant enough to come to his apartment. Everything Xander had learnt about the other man this past week had indicated he was someone who didn’t care about anyone else’s feelings, least of all Samantha’s.
‘I thought you said that your lawyer would contact Malcolm and arrange for him to visit his offices?’
Xander winced at the complete lack of accusation in Samantha’s tone. At the lack of any emotion in her voice at all. ‘He was going to do that on Monday morning.’ He grimaced. ‘Obviously I underestimated the speed of Howard’s powers of deduction.’
She smiled without humour. ‘Don’t feel bad about that; a lot of people have underestimated Malcolm’s intelligence,’ she said flatly.
‘I’m so sorry, Samantha.’ Xander looked down at her, frowning as he saw her expression was just as unreadable. As if the shock, the possibility of seeing Howard again, had robbed her of all feeling. ‘You don’t