Where would it all end?
Roberto’s deathbed revelations had set in motion a train of action she had no way of stopping. Luc was the engine driver and she and Matt were captive passengers. All she could hope for was they didn’t crash against an immovable force which would break them apart with worse wounds to carry into the future.
Eventually Skye fell into a fretful sleep. She was wakened the next morning by an overexcited Matt who declared he was going to practice playing soccer all day. No prizes for working out why, Skye thought wryly. ‘Daddy’ featured in practically everything he said.
Luc was already at the playing field when they arrived. Matt, of course, had spotted the red Ferrari in the parking lot, so there was absolutely no sense of disappointment to suffer through. The only suffering was done by Skye, continually torn by Luc’s and Matt’s pleasure in each other and the fear that she had made a big mistake in not enforcing the limits she had imposed on their relationship.
Yet could the damage be limited, if damage there was going to be? Did time limits mean anything when emotions were involved—emotions that were probably heightened because there wasn’t constant contact. Wasn’t it said, absence made the heart grow fonder?
Watching Matt adoring his father for the caring interest and the soccer advice Luc was giving him as they watched other boys play their games, Skye could barely contain surges of heightened emotion herself. It was all too easy to fall in love with Luc Peretti. Hard experience could bolster her will to fight her feelings, but Matt didn’t know how, wouldn’t understand why there was any necessity to shield himself from possible hurt. She found herself violently thinking she would kill Luc if he ever let Matt down.
There were a hundred and sixty five-year-olds to be graded into teams. Short games were organised for the coaches to view and judge levels of talent. When Matt’s rostered game came up, he ran onto the field with eager anticipation, determined to show how good he was at running after and kicking the soccer ball.
Luc grinned at her as they were left standing on the sidelines. ‘Keen, isn’t he?’
‘Very,’ she dryly agreed. And to stop Luc from assuming too much from the relaxation of rules today, she added, ‘Once they start playing in earnest the soccer matches will be on Saturday.’
His day.
The grin faded into an ironic little smile. ‘My Sundays are not full of other things, Skye. I’d much prefer to spend them with you.’
‘That would be cutting yourself off from the life you’ve led these past six years,’ she said, trying desperately for a matter-of-fact tone.
‘I’m far more interested in a life with you and Matt,’ he returned without the slightest hesitation for second thoughts.
Her eyes begged him to be honest. ‘We don’t belong in your world, Luc.’
‘Are you saying I must give up everything else to have you and Matt?’
Her heart skipped at the intense purpose he loaded into his question. Would he do it? But surely he would regret it if he did, regret it and blame her for forcing such a decision in years to come.
She sucked in a quick breath and answered, ‘No. I’m just saying we’re prisoners of our different backgrounds and it’s foolish not to recognise that reality.’
His mouth quirked into a mocking smile. ‘You’d be surprised how little my background means to me. You hit the nail on the head in calling it a prison—an oppressive prison I wish to be free of.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not how you’re acting, Luc. The bonds are very tight. You’re pressuring your parents to accept us and they won’t.’
‘I’m simply giving them the chance, Skye.’
‘You’re using force.’
‘No. Just telling them I’ve made my choice. Whether they want to live with it or not is up to them.’
‘You’re prepared to walk away from everything you’ve known?’ She couldn’t believe it.
He looked back at her with a searing blaze of unwavering resolution. ‘If I have to, yes.’
Her heart turned over. All her resistance to him melted under the heat of wildly hopeful desires, suddenly let loose from the restrictions she had placed on them. He reached out and took her hand, interlacing her fingers with his, gripping hard, and it felt as though he was providing an anchor that would hold her from breaking adrift in any storm.
‘Don’t doubt my commitment to you and Matt, Skye,’ he said, his voice a low throb that drummed on and on in her head. ‘Don’t doubt it for a second.’
The referee’s whistle blew, alerting them to the start of Matt’s game. The soccer ball was kicked from the centre line and then there was a blur of boys racing after it. Skye was far too conscious of Luc’s grip on her to concentrate on picking Matt out of the melee.
She could not stop herself from wanting this link with him. It felt good—warm, firm, secure. Maybe it was because she’d been alone for too long and Luc was Matt’s father. He was also the only man she had ever loved and he was here for her, here for the child they’d made together, too. They should be together.
‘Go for it, Matt!’
Luc’s yell snapped Skye out of her thoughts. She saw Matt streaking ahead of the other boys, chasing down the ball which had been kicked towards the goal-posts. He reached it first, dribbled it away from the reach of the goalie who had run out to pick it up, then shot it into the net.
‘Goal!’ Luc yelled, releasing Skye’s hand to throw his arms up in accolade to Matt’s triumph—a triumph that beamed from his little boy face as he turned to see if they’d been watching and he instantly copied Luc’s action, the shared joy of it making the triumph even better.
Skye clapped so hard her hands hurt. ‘Well done, Matt!’ she called and he trotted back proudly to the centre of the field to start play again.
‘That’s our son!’ Luc said just as proudly, throwing one of his lowered arms around Skye’s shoulders and hugging her close. ‘Fastest boy on the field and proving he’s a striker.’
What if he’d been the slowest and a dud at soccer, Skye thought. But he wasn’t so there was no point in thinking it. She doubted Matt was going to be a dud at anything. He was Luc’s son.
And hers.
Parents together.
Luc rubbed his cheek over her hair and murmured, ‘Marry me, Skye. This is how it should be.’
She wanted to say yes. Being held so close to him, her whole body yearned for the intimacy that could bind them much closer. But the fears she had of consequences could not be banished.