“Do you still have a motorcycle?” Lily asked.
“Yes,” Nate answered.
“Then I have another condition.”
Lily watched Nate smile.
They were in his Aston Martin, headed back to Somerset. It was after their delicious brunch at a posh patisserie in Kensington, her neurologist’s appointment (complete with an unnecessary and costly MRI) and the GP appointment (she was now in possession of birth control pills but, as it took a month for them to be fully effective, she was also fitted with a diaphragm). After all of this, she hoped she didn’t have to see another doctor for at least twenty years.
Although she had to admit to one highlight of her medical experience.
Upon leaving the GP’s examination room, she saw Nate sitting and waiting for her. The ankle of one of his long legs resting atop the knee of the other, his dark, handsome head bent to study a pile of papers in his lap. He was completely oblivious to every single woman in the room staring at him with longing, surreptitious glances.
And then, as if sensing she was there, his head came up and he watched her coming toward him, his eyes moving lazily from the top of her hair to the tips of her toes. His face registered a sort of triumphant satisfaction, communicated such a smug possession that she could swear that he, rich, powerful, tall, lean, urbane, gorgeous Nathaniel McAllister was proud to be with her, sheltered, plain, naive, Indiana-girl Lily Jacobs. The very thought of it made her nearly trip on her fancy high-heeled sandals and fall flat on her face.
Luckily she did not for that would have ruined the moment and he rose when she came closer. Again, as was becoming his custom, his hand moved to rest on her waist, his fingers pressing into her there as if he wished to brand her.
“All set?” he murmured, his eyes and voice warm.
She nodded and, she couldn’t help herself, she did it happily.
She could also swear, as they left, Nate’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the waiting room, that she saw one mother of a sick, snot-nosed child lean to another sitting beside her, jerk her head frustratedly in their direction and mutter, “Figures.”
They’d gone to the car and started straight away to Clevedon.
Lily had been surprised at this and wanted to go back to the penthouse to get her things but Nate assured her it was “being seen to”.
“What’s your condition?” Nate asked pulling her out of her reverie and her reaction to his smile.
“If you take Tash on the cycle, you can’t drive it the way you drove it when we were together. You have to be more careful,” she told him.
“Agreed,” he replied instantly then went on, “but what about when I take you on the bike?”
“Oh, I’m too old for bikes,” Lily responded airily, her body thrilling a little bit at the thought of being on a motorcycle again, especially with Nate. This thrill she tamped down with firm resolution.
At her words, he let out a sharp bark of laughter that filled the car and she smiled to herself at the sound of it.
“You already broke your own condition anyway.” She was letting their easy banter relax her even further. She hadn’t felt this carefree in, well, since she last was with Nate.
“I beg your pardon?”
“This morning when we, when you…” She broke off and thought how to put it delicately. “We didn’t use any protection,” she informed him.
“Yes we did.”
She was watching the scenery but, at his words, her head snapped around to stare at him.
“We did?”
“I did,” he amended.
“You did?” she queried in wonder.
“Obviously, I did it right,” he muttered to himself.
“How…?” she mumbled then went on. “Forget it, I don’t want to know.”
His answer was to take her hand from her lap and lift it to his mouth, brushing her knuckles with his lips all the while his eyes never left the road.
The lone gymnast in her belly liked it when he did that too.
Later, Nate expertly parallel parked in front of Lily’s house and before he’d fully helped her alight, Natasha had flung the front door open to the house and was rushing to them.
“Mummeeeeee,” she cried and Lily had just stepped on the sidewalk when Tash’s body slammed into her and her thin arms closed around Lily’s hips.
“Hey baby doll.” Lily bent to kiss the top of her shining, black hair, the blue gleaming in it from the still-strong sun.
“Daddy!” She disengaged and threw herself at Nate to give him one of her fabulous hugs.
He bent as well but to pick her up. He swung her in front of him and her legs closed around his waist and linked at the ankles behind his back as her arms rested around his shoulders.
“Natasha,” Nate murmured.
“Your things arrived,” Tash informed him cheerfully and Lily’s once-contented, now-startled gaze moved from her daughter to Nate.
“Good.” He was smiling at Tash.
“What things?” Lily asked, vaguely realising Fazire had also come out of the house and was emanating genie-rage all the way down their front walk.
Nate didn’t answer but his eyes moved to Lily’s.
“What things?” she repeated.
She’d asked Nate but Tash answered, “About a million suitcases and some boxes. There’s a few things for you in some glossy bags but not nearly as much stuff as for Daddy.”
At her daughter’s words, Lily crossed her arms in front of her, started to tap her toe and she glared at Nate.
He put Natasha down and Lily’s eyes cut to her daughter. “Go inside a sec, Tash, I need to speak to your father.”
Tash presented her with a child-scowl. “You’re always needing to speak to my father.”
Lily raised her eyebrows and Tash read the meaning swiftly after years of seeing her mother give her that look, she had lots of practice reading the meaning, unfortunately, Lily hadn’t learned about the eyebrow raise tactic until it was almost too late. Tash ran inside and Fazire, with a jerk, followed and slammed the door behind them.
Lily whirled to Nate.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she snapped.
“Are we going to have this conversation on the pavement?” he enquired blandly, even in asking the question, he sounded like it was all the same to him.
Her hackles rose. There was simply nothing that penetrated his armour.
“Yes, we are.”
“You told me to move to Somerset,” he reminded her.