and working there now made Mac feel that she still had that connection to her grandfather. ‘My parents had already moved out of London to live in Devon when my grandfather died, and so didn’t want or need it.’
‘No siblings for you to share with?’
‘No. You?’ Mac asked with interest, deciding she had probably talked about herself enough for one evening.
Jonas’s mouth thinned. ‘I believe my parents considered that one mistake was enough.’
Mac gasped, not quite sure what to say in answer to a statement like that. ‘I’m sure they didn’t think of you as a mistake—’
‘Then you would be wrong, Mac,’ he said dryly. ‘My parents were both only nineteen when they got married, and then it was only because my mother was expecting me. She would have been better off—we all would have—if she had either got rid of the baby or settled for being a single mother.’ He finished drinking the wine in his glass, offering to refill Mac’s glass before refilling his own when she shook her head in refusal.
Mac had continued to eat while they talked, but she gave up all pretence of that after Jonas’s comment that his mother should have got rid of him rather than marry his father!
Jonas looked bitter. ‘I have no doubts that your own childhood was one of love and indulgence with parents and a family who loved you?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted with slight discomfort.
Jonas gave a hard smile. ‘Don’t look so apologetic, Mac. It’s the way it should be, after all,’ he said bleakly. ‘Unfortunately, it so often isn’t. I believe it took a couple of years for the novelty to wear off and the cracks to start appearing in my own parents’ marriage, then ten years or more for them to realise they couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Or me,’ he added flatly.
Mac gave a pained wince. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about that, Jonas.’
‘I’m sure your romantic little heart wants me to be wrong about that, Mac,’ he corrected.
He meant his mockery of her to wound, and it did, but Mac’s ‘romantic little heart’ also told her that Jonas’s taunts hid the pain and disillusionment that had helped to mould him into the hard and resilient man he was today. That had made him into a man who rejected all the softer emotions, such as love, in favour of making a success of his life through his own hard work and sheer determination. That had made him into a man who didn’t even bother to put up Christmas decorations in his apartment…
‘Your parents are divorced now?’ she asked.
‘Yes, thank God,’ he replied. ‘After years of basically ignoring each other, and me, they finally separated when I was thirteen and divorced a couple of years later.’
Mac didn’t even like to think of the damage they had done in those thirteen years, not only to each other, but most especially to Jonas, the child caught in the middle of all that hostility.
‘Which one did you live with after the separation?’
‘Neither of them,’ Jonas bit out with satisfaction. ‘I had my own grandfather I went to live with. My father’s father. Although I doubt Joseph was the warm and fuzzy type your own grandfather sounds,’ he added.
Mac doubted it too, if Jonas had actually called his grandfather by his first name, and if the expression on Jonas’s face was anything to go by!
Jonas would have found Mac’s obvious dismay amusing if it weren’t his own childhood they were discussing. Something that was unusual in itself when Jonas usually went out of his way not to talk about himself. But it was better that Mac knew all there was to know about him now. To be made aware that falling in love and getting married wasn’t, and never would be, a part of his future. Jonas had seen firsthand the pain and disillusionment that supposed emotion caused, and he wanted no part of it. Not now or ever.
‘You said earlier that you didn’t belong in these surroundings,’ Jonas reminded her. ‘Well, neither do I. My parents were poor, and my grandfather Joseph was a rough, tough man who worked on a building site all his life. I’ve worked hard for what I have, Mac.’
‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
‘Didn’t you?’ He gave her a grim smile. ‘I probably owe part of my success to the fact that my grandfather had no time for slackers,’ he continued relentlessly. ‘You either worked to pay your way or you got out. I decided to work. My parents had both remarried by the time I was sixteen and disappeared off into the sunset—’
‘Jonas!’ Mac choked as she sat forward to place her hand over his as it lay curled into a fist on the tabletop.
He pulled his hand away sharply, determined to finish this now that he had started. Mac should know exactly what she was getting into if she decided to become involved with him. Exactly! ‘In between working with my grandfather before and after school and cooking for the two of us, I also worked hard to get my A levels. Then I worked my way through university and gained a Masters degree in Mathematics before going into architecture. I worked my ba—’ He broke off with an apologetic grimace. ‘I worked hard for one of the best architecture companies in London for a couple of years, before I was lucky enough to have a couple of my designs taken up by a man called Joel Baxter. Have you heard of him?’
Mac’s eyes were wide. ‘The man who makes billions out of computer games and software?’
‘That’s the one,’ Jonas confirmed. ‘Strangely, we became friends. He convinced me I should go out on my own, that I needed to take control of the whole construction of the building and not just the design of it, that I would never make money working for someone else. It was a struggle to start with, but I took his advice, and, as they say, the rest is history.’ He gave a dismissive shrug.
Yes, it was. Mac was aware of the well-publicised overnight success of Buchanan Construction—which obviously hadn’t been any such thing but was simply the result of Jonas’s own hard work and determination to succeed.
She moistened dry lips. ‘Are you and Joel Baxter still friends?’
Jonas’s expression softened slightly. ‘Yeah. Joel’s one of the good guys.’
Mac brightened slightly. ‘And your parents, surely they must be proud of you? Of what you’ve achieved?’
Jonas’s eyes hardened to icy chips. ‘I haven’t seen either one of them since my father attended my grand-father’s funeral when I was nineteen.’
Mac looked at him incredulously. ‘That’s—that’s unbelievable!’
He looked at her coldly. ‘Is it?’
‘Well. Yes.’ She shook her head. ‘Look at you now, all that you’ve achieved, surely—’
‘I didn’t say that they hadn’t wanted to see me again, Mac,’ Jonas cut in. ‘Once Buchanan Construction became known as a multimillion-pound worldwide enterprise, they both crawled out of the woodwork to claim their only lost son,’ he recalled bitterly.
Mac swallowed hard. ‘And?’
‘And I didn’t want anything to do with either of them,’ he said emotionlessly.
Mac could understand, after all that had gone before, why Jonas felt the way that he did about seeing his parents again. Understand his feelings on the subject, maybe, but accepting it, when the situation between Jonas and his parents remained unresolved, was something else. Or perhaps he considered that just not seeing or having anything to do with his parents was the solution?
She looked sad. ‘They’ve missed out on so much.’
Jonas lifted an unconcerned shoulder. ‘I suppose that depends upon your perspective.’
Mac’s perspective was that Jonas’s parents had obviously been too young when they married each other and had Jonas, but it in no way excused their behaviour towards him. He had been an