The Secrets She Must Tell - Lucy King Page 0,26

a knee-length ivory dress and matching coat. Finn had on a dark suit that fitted as if made for him, which it probably was, and a snowy white shirt open at the collar that drew attention to the firmness of his jaw and strong planes of his face.

She didn’t know quite why they’d dressed up. There was nothing remotely weddingy or romantic about either the venue or the occasion. But that didn’t douse the flicker of warmth that uncurled deep within her when they stood together with a thankfully beautifully behaved Josh in Finn’s arms while Mrs Gardiner, who’d doubled up as the second witness, took the photo she’d insisted on taking after they’d all signed the register. Nor did it stop her noticing how smoulderingly hot her new... What? Not husband... So partner...? How smoulderingly hot he looked and how delicious he smelled close up.

Not that any of that mattered, any more than the weird idea that the ceremony was somehow special did. She’d get over that nonsense. Nothing had changed. And, while the way Finn made her physically feel was going to continue to be hard to ignore, it wasn’t impossible. She was made of stern stuff. If she could get through the insanely tough initial stages of post-partum psychosis, she could handle this inconvenient attraction, however insistent. It wasn’t as if there was any other option when how she felt was so clearly one-sided. She was hardly going to throw herself at him and suggest a repeat of that wild night they’d spent together. Heaven forbid. His likely rejection would be mortifying.

However, for the sake of their son, she and Finn could be perfectly civil and mature about all of this, and she, at least, intended to start with the lunch they were about to embark upon to mark the occasion. Carla had gone straight back to work after the ceremony and Mrs Gardiner had taken Josh back to the apartment for his customary nap, which left her and Finn in one of the many restaurants in his company’s portfolio, together and on their own for the first time in weeks.

‘What shall we toast to?’ she asked, once they’d sat down at their table and a bottle of champagne had been delivered and poured.

Finn arched one dark eyebrow. ‘Is there any need to toast anything?’

‘I think so... Ooh, I know. How about to no longer being alone?’

He didn’t say anything, merely carried on looking at her steadily, his gaze unwavering and unfathomable, and for one horrible moment she thought she’d got it all wrong. But just as she was beginning to feel a bit of a fool sitting there with her hand outstretched, he touched his glass to hers and gave her the faintest of smiles before lifting the glass to his lips and tipping half of its contents down his throat.

‘So why didn’t you want any of your friends to be a witness?’ she said, taking a sip of her own drink and for some reason feeling ridiculously pleased that she hadn’t got it wrong after all. ‘Come to think of it, do you have any friends?’ She hadn’t heard any mention of any.

‘Of course I do,’ he said, setting his glass down and twirling the stem between his fingers and thumb. ‘One of them’s on honeymoon, and it didn’t seem worth bothering any of the others for something that was merely a formality.’

Oh. Right. Well. That told her. Just as well she hadn’t been harbouring any ideas of their civil partnership being anything other than purely practical.

‘Do they know about me and Josh?’ she asked, slightly distracted by the mesmerising movement of his fingers, as so often happened whenever she looked at his hands.

‘If they do it’ll have been via the press.’

So he wasn’t exactly shouting the news of their union from the rooftops. Which was fine. There was absolutely no reason why he should, she told herself, lifting her gaze and getting a grip. ‘Will I ever meet any of them?’

‘I imagine so.’

‘I look forward to it,’ she said, realising with some surprise that it was true. She wanted to know more about this man and, weirdly, not just because he was the father of her child.

‘Why didn’t you want your parents there today?’

With a jolt she refocused and, as usual whenever she thought of her parents, a tight knot of anger and resentment and God only knew what else formed in her stomach. ‘There wouldn’t have been any point,’ she said, hearing the