Free Revealed: His Secret Child by Sandra Hyatt Page B

promise no more interruptions.” He winked at them before pulling the door shut behind him.
    Gillian wriggled her arms and shoulders fully back intoher pajama top at the same time as she scooted away from him. Any farther and she’d fall off the edge.
    He wanted her back.
    â€œSo now what?” she asked.
    Max glanced at the tray. “Now, coffee or OJ, and eggs benedict by the look of it.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œMom asked me last night what your favorite breakfast was.”
    â€œYou remembered?”
    â€œIt’s not a big deal.” Was it a sign of weakness that he remembered so very much more about her than her favorite breakfast? That though he told himself he’d wiped her from his life and his mind, he clearly hadn’t?
    â€œThank you.”
    He poured two cups of coffee from the silver coffeepot, and once she’d levered herself to sitting, handed her one.
    They ate in silence. She’d always been comfortable with his silences, not feeling the need to fill a void. She was easy to be with in that way.
    From the corner of his eye he watched her cut delicate portions of her breakfast and chew slowly. A crumb from her English muffin fell down the vee of her top. She pulled the top out from her chest and fished for it. Too late, Max returned his attention to his own breakfast. He’d seen the luscious swell of breast, glimpsed a darkened peak. And his body had responded. Fiercely.
    He’d dated a few women since Gillian. Had let none of the relationships become serious. Had let none of them get to the point of sharing breakfast in bed. But breakfast in bed was something of a Preston family tradition, as evidenced by this morning’s room service. And he’d occasionally done the same for Gillian in their time together. Bringing her breakfast, which they’d eaten sitting in bed, occasionally reading thepaper, but more often following up the meal with long lazy lovemaking.
    Definitely the paper today. They had to kill at least forty minutes up here, if not longer, in order not to raise his family’s suspicions. He finished his eggs, reached for the newspaper, pulled off the sports section for himself and put the remaining paper on the bed between them. True to form, she reached for the section containing the comics and puzzles. She folded it to reveal the crossword and pulled a pen from her bag on the floor.
    In the old days she’d consulted him over the puzzle if she came across a difficult clue. Today she was silent, chewing the end of her pen, as she mulled over answers.
    In ten minutes she’d completed the puzzle. He’d liked that about her, that she was sharp, and determined, and independent.
    Too independent apparently. So independent she thought she didn’t need him.
    He was a PR expert, he knew all about making the best of a bad situation, of turning what might look like a disaster to a person’s advantage.
    He followed her glance to the clock. “Yeah, I think we can go now.”
    She smiled her relief and practically leaped from the bed, darting to the bathroom. Only for a moment did he let himself visualize the body he once knew so well, beneath the stream of the shower.
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    Max was stowing their bags in his car as Gillian stood talking with Laura in the marbled entry foyer hung with family portraits. She didn’t understand why someone who was part of such a loving and close family would so assiduously avoid that kind of closeness for himself.
    Unless it was just her he avoided it with.
    Ethan sat happily on Laura’s hip, studying with eyes and fingers the dangling necklace hanging at her throat.
    Their time with his family this morning had been less awkward than Gillian had expected. But only a little. Laura and Stephen did their best to make her feel welcome but beneath their natural warmth she could see the questions and doubts in their eyes. She didn’t blame them. Thankfully, Ethan provided a distraction