bit of her that wondered if he was putting on a show for his mother’s benefit.
But he didn’t hold her hand for long, because the buggy got stuck and he had to go and help Richard lift it up some steps, and then his mother put her arm through his and started to talk to him, and Julia was left with Richard and the babies.
‘He’s looking better.’
‘He needed to. He was haggard when he arrived on Monday. I was shocked. I’d managed to convince myself that he didn’t care—’
‘Didn’t care?’ Richard gave a short cough of laughter. ‘Oh, no. He cared. I’ve never seen a man so tortured. He was devastated when he couldn’t find you. I really think he imagined you were dead.’
Oh, lord. She closed her eyes for a second and stumbled, but Richard caught her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
‘You’ll sort it out between you,’ he said comfortingly. ‘Just give it time.’
She’d given it two weeks, and nearly a third of that was gone. It was Thursday now, and he’d been there since Monday. So that was another ten days. Would it be enough to convince her that he’d changed? Or enough for him to know just what he was taking on?
She didn’t know. But Yashimoto was going to be out of the picture soon, and that meant no more trips to Tokyo. If he could do the same with the New York operation, so he only had his UK businesses to worry about, then maybe, just maybe, they’d be all right.
But, in the meantime, she had to find a way of asking him about Debbie, and, until she knew exactly who she was and what she meant to him, she had no idea what the future might hold. She just knew that, if Linda was to be believed, Debbie was hugely significant.
If only she knew what it was she was asking him…
‘Poor old Murphs. Did we abandon you, mate?’
Max ruffled his ears and stroked his side, and Murphy leant against him and thumped his tail enthusiastically.
‘I think that means “feed me”,’ Jules said drily, and he laughed and picked up his bowl.
‘Hungry, are you?’ he said, and the tail went faster. ‘Shall I feed him?’
‘Mmm—but, if you could take him out for a run first, that would be great. I’ll bath the girls.’
‘Are you sure you can manage?’
‘I’m fine. Go on, off you go.’
So he took him out for a run by the river, just for a few minutes, because the light was fading fast, and by the time they got home it was gloomy and Julia was in the kitchen with the girls giving them their supper and their evening feed.
‘Tea?’ he offered, knowing now that she liked to drink while she was feeding, and she smiled her thanks and settled down on the sofa with the babies.
He put her tea—with cold water—in reach, and sat down with his at the other end of the table and watched her feeding them while Murphy chased his bowl around the tiled floor.
‘I might buy him a bowl with a rubber base,’ she said ruefully, and Max laughed and sipped his tea and watched his wife and daughters, and thought that life had never been more complex or more challenging—or more fulfilling.
Happy families, he thought, and wondered how long it would last. He’d done his best—handed Yashimoto the deal of the century—but he didn’t care and it made him feel good, because the man had worked hard to turn his old company around, and, given a leg up, he’d be fine now.
But that was just the tip of the iceberg, of course. There was a ton of other investments which still needed his serious intervention, and with his eye off the ball—Well, who knew what could happen to it? He’d had to rescue a situation this morning because he hadn’t been on hand to deal with it, and Stephen had been tied up with Tokyo.
And for some reason Andrea hadn’t flagged it up to him.
Oh, well. It was sorted now, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend his empire could run itself.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked her, watching as she detached Libby and sat her up.
‘Starving. Why? What did you have in mind?’
He chuckled. ‘Nothing with garlic. I was wondering if I should get something from the pub again.’
‘Oh. That would be lovely. They do a really great thing with mozzarella and basil, a little tartlet. It’s fabulous. And sticky-toffee pudding.’
‘Stick—That sounds gross,’ he said with a laugh.
‘No. It’s gorgeous. You ought to try it.’
‘I’ll try some of yours.’
‘If I let you have any.’
‘Oh, you will,’ he said, taking Ava off her and wincing at the deafening burp. ‘I’ll sweet-talk you.’
‘You can try,’ she said, but her eyes were twinkling and he felt a sudden stab of longing. Damn. After the conversation they’d had last night, there was no way he was getting that close to her, so he’d be better off not thinking about it.
‘Come on, pest. Let’s take you up and change your nappy and tuck you up in bed, so your mother and father can have a little civilised conversation.’
‘Better keep them here, then,’ Jules said from behind him, and he turned back and caught her teasing smile, and felt desire lance through him again, hot and hard and needy.
It was going to be a long, long evening.
She lit the fire while he was over at the pub collecting their order, and by the time he came back the logs were blazing merrily behind the fireguard and the table was laid.
‘Is that woodsmoke I can smell?’ he asked, coming back into the kitchen, and she nodded.
‘I’ve lit the fire. I thought maybe we could play chess again, or watch some of the baby DVDs.’
She saw his smile slip. ‘OK. That would be nice,’ he said, and made a valiant attempt to resurrect the smile, but it didn’t fool her. And the first time they’d watched a DVD of the babies it had upset him. But why?
‘Max?’
‘Fancy a small glass of wine? There’s a bit of white left, or I’ve bought some rosé.’
‘Oh. Rosé would be nice. Thanks,’ she said, and let it drop for now.
She was watching him.
He ignored her, handing her the stacked plates with their covers and swiftly twisting the cork out of the wine. By the time he’d poured it and sat down opposite her, she was busy concentrating on her food, and, with the smell of the sticky-toffee pudding drifting from its resting place on the side of the Aga, he thought he might have got away with it.
For now. But the DVD’s were a minefield, making him feel raw, and he wasn’t sure he could watch a film shot in special care. Not see how close they’d come—
‘Wow, that was gorgeous. Thanks, Max.’
He put aside his black thoughts and smiled at her. She looked lovely tonight, her hair loose around her shoulders and her eyes warm and gentle. If only…
No. Not yet. She’d said so, with knobs on, but, if he could only get that close to her, maybe he could convince her to come back to him.
‘It’s a pleasure,’ he said. ‘So—how about letting me thrash you at chess again?’
She hesitated for a second, then gave him a mischievous grin. ‘OK. If you don’t mind being beaten. I’ve remembered how your mind works.’
‘Faster than yours,’ he pointed out, and she stuck her tongue out at him and stood up.
‘Let’s