My eyes were getting heavy as I eavesdropped.

I SNUGGLED AGAINST the warm thing, pressing my face into it, breathing it in. It smelt delicious and made my heart race. Cracking my eyes open, I looked around. Confusion settled over me as I realised I wasn’t at home. All I could see were white walls, splashed with the occasional canvas. I was laying on something soft; I turned my head and looked up to see Carson looking down at me.

What on Earth?

Then I remembered everything: the reporters, the arguing with Carson, the demands he was making. I gulped as my heart broke all over again, remembering the way he looked at me, the way those spiteful words sounded in his smooth voice.

It took me a couple of seconds to realise I was lying on my back on the sofa with my head in his lap. His arm was resting across my body, his thumb stroking my stomach lightly, making my skin break out in goose bumps at the feel of his skin on mine. I wanted to punch myself for reacting to his touch when I was supposed to hate him. Apparently, my stupid, traitorous body couldn’t seem to remember the way he looked down his nose and sneered at me so distastefully.

I pushed myself up, sitting on the sofa, and blushed because I was so close to him. My body still reacted to his even though I didn’t want it to. My mouth yearned to be on his, and my fingers itched to touch him and caress him. As I sat up, his hand dropped off my stomach and he looked at me with a small, sad smile on his face. I’d never felt awkward around Carson since the first moment I met him, but it was almost as if we didn’t know how to act around each other anymore. As if we’d lost the connection we once had, the connection I treasured.

“Hey. You okay?” he asked, brushing my hair behind my ear, making the skin on my cheek tingle where his fingers touched. I gulped and nodded. The corner of his lips twitched with a smile. “You must be the only person I’ve ever met that can fall asleep sitting up with your head against a wall.”

I laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, it’s one of my many talents.”

Flicking my eyes around the room again, I spotted a clock on the wall. It was just after one. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled, signalling lunchtime. Carson smiled. “If you’re hungry, I could make you something? My housekeeper doesn’t work weekends, so it’ll have to be sandwiches or something. Unless you want me to order in?” He raised one eyebrow in question.

“Sandwiches are fine,” I muttered, pushing myself off the sofa.

He stood as well, his hand brushing against mine as he moved. I shied away from him, ignoring the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. I frowned, confused by the look. His disappointment and the caring way he’d obviously carried me into the lounge while I was sleeping didn’t match the awful way he’d spoken to me or the threats of taking Sasha away from me. Him carrying me into the lounge and letting me sleep in his lap was something I could associate with the old Carson, the one I was starting to wonder actually existed or if I was too blinded by my feelings. Maybe I’d imagined him to be something he wasn’t.

“Shall I make them?” I offered, trying to break the uneasy silence that had settled over the room. When he shrugged in answer, I stalked back to the kitchen, pulling open his fridge, just finding butter and a block of cheese.

As I put all the ingredients on the side, he was just watching me silently. The way his eyebrows were furrowed told me there was something he wanted to talk to me about, but he wasn’t sure he should. I sighed deeply and turned to him. “Just spit it out, Carson.”

He recoiled slightly before seeming to compose himself. “Okay, well, I’ve instructed someone from Selfridges to come over this afternoon and look around here. They’ll put in an order for everything Sasha needs for her bedroom and the safety stuff like stair gates and things. If you could be on hand in case they have questions about what she likes, that’d be great. Obviously, I don’t know what she needs.” He scowled down at the worktop angrily. “The manager I spoke to while you were asleep said they can come and evaluate, you can choose which design you like and then they’ll have everything delivered and installed tomorrow morning.”

I gulped at the hard tone to his voice. Clearly, he was extremely angry with me because he didn’t know what type of things his daughter needed. “Okay.”

He nodded. “And I was also thinking we should talk about how it’s going to work… with us, I mean.”

Us. Wow, now there’s an ‘us’. I ignored the little thrill that went through me at the thought of there being an ‘us’. I really needed to protect my heart because he was in serious danger of crushing me if I let myself buy into this little fantasy. I didn’t say anything, so he continued.

“Because people are aware of Sasha now, there’s going to be a statement put out about us being together and that we’re getting married,” he explained, massaging the back of his neck roughly. “It’s going to say we’ve been secretly dating on and off for the last three years, and now we’ve decided to confirm our relationship seeing as The Peoples’ Post forced our hand.”

I averted my eyes. “Will I get a chance to tell Rory before this happens? I don’t want him finding out through some newspaper.” I stabbed the cheese, cutting it into rough slices as my anger escalated again.

“Yeah, you can talk to Rory. You want me to go pick him up or something? Bring him here?” His voice was soft and caring, just like it used to be.

I sighed in frustration. His kind voice made it hard to stay mad at him. “I’ll call him and talk to him. I don’t think I really want to see the look on his face right now.” I winced at the thought of it.