tragedy of her life. The terrible, wrenching loss that had taken Suzy from her had given her Dylan—and brought Connor into her life. He was far from being the total jerk she’d always thought he was—she’d discovered a side of him she liked … loved … that she wanted to get to know better.
It was insane.
Connor bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Take it easy, Tory. Dylan and I will make breakfast after our shower.” He swept the baby off the covers and jiggled Dylan up and down. “Won’t we, big guy?”
At the familiar name, she gave him a misty smile, then settled herself against the pillows and listened to Dylan’s crowing with glee.
“Thanks, Connor. It sounds like heaven.”
He hesitated. “I seem to remember Suzy calling you Tory. Everyone else calls you Victoria?”
“Well, yes, it’s my name, after all.”
“Don’t get smart,” he growled, swotting her bottom.
“I’ve never liked being called Vicki.”
“What about Tory? Do you like that?”
A pang shot through her. “Only Suzy and her parents ever called me that. It made it very special. Now they’re all gone.”
A brief silence fell.
At last Connor said gruffly, “Tory suits you. Makes me think of the toffee-gold in your eyes. It’s much less of a mouthful than Victoria.”
“You can call me Tory if you want,” she offered.
“I think I will.” He looked down at the baby curled against him. “Don’t you think so, Dyl?”
Dylan gooed.
Grinning at her, Connor said, “He agrees I should call you Tory.”
Still smiling, as Connor disappeared with the baby into the en suite, Victoria thought about the unexpected turn her life had taken.
And the Connor she’d discovered last night had blown her mind. Gentle. Passionate. She’d never intended to sleep with him, but it had been so right. She couldn’t bring herself to regret the annihilation of their no-sex pact, even though she suspected last night was going to change everything between them.
For the better.
From the bathroom she could hear the rumble of her lover’s deep voice and Dylan’s squeals.
He’d assured her he wouldn’t leave her high and dry. They had a chance to be the family she’d never dared dream of.
Despite her reservations about herself, about Connor’s ability to give her the independence she needed, they really could make this marriage work. At least they both knew exactly where they stood. There were no pretenses. For a brief moment she thought about the fact that she’s never told Connor that her eggs had helped Suzy to fall pregnant. That Dylan was part of her. Then she pushed it away. That wasn’t really a pretense—she’d kept it secret for Suzy’s sake. And she’d never considered herself Dylan’s mother—not until Suzy had been killed. But she knew she would have to tell Connor the truth—the sooner the better.
Contentment spread over her as she picked up the paper. The headlines were too depressing; she pulled her face. Her usual favorite, the financial pages didn’t draw her as they normally did. She flipped to the middle of the paper, to the personality features. An inset photo drew her eye.
Connor …
In the gossip pages?
The larger surrounding photo was of a laughing couple in wedding dress. She glanced at the caption. “Business as usual?” Dana and Paul had gotten married?
Did Connor know?
She quickly scanned further. The story salaciously rehashed the fact that Dana had been Connor’s live-in lover and that her defection to Paul’s bed had caused a split in the company.
But it was the concluding paragraph of the story that disturbed Victoria most. The reporter’s sly insinuation, that Connor’s same-day, low-key wedding had been his way of beating the wedding couple to the church door was given credence by Connor’s apparent refusal to comment.
Unmindful of the hiss of the shower and the sounds of glee in the en suite, Victoria set down the paper and stared blindly out of the bedroom window. She didn’t even see the first pair of tuis of the spring whistling in the giant pohutukawa in the garden—which would normally have delighted her.
Connor had known that Dana and Paul were getting married yesterday.
Nothing could dislodge that earth-shattering discovery. Connor had clearly known about the wedding—he’d even been tackily asked to comment. Had last night been about Dana marrying Paul?
A feeling of violation shrouded Victoria. Was it possible that in some twisted way she’d become Connor’s instrument of revenge against the couple who’d betrayed him?
No, it wasn’t possible. Because she had made the choice to move in with him. Not Connor.
But Connor had come up with the idea of