The Secret Child

Luke’s eyes moved over the softness of her lips and she felt herself tremble.

“What do you want from me, Luke?” she asked huskily, wrenching her gaze away from his in the vain hope of breaking the sudden weakness invading her body.

“I’ve already told you. I want to see my son.”

“And I’ve told you, my life and my child are none of your business.”

Luke shook his head. “I really think you should reconsider….” There was a dangerous warning hidden behind the softness of his tone and it wasn’t lost on her. “I’ve come here today in an act of friendship, to ask you politely about Nathan—”

“And I’ve answered you politely.”

“You’ve answered nothing.” He ground the words out tersely. “And quite frankly, Alison, my patience is wearing thin. I wouldn’t advise you to mess me around any further.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Luke,” Alison replied, her eyes blazing into his now.

“Well, maybe you should be,” Luke said quietly. “Because when I want something I usually get it….”

KATHRYN ROSS was born in Zambia, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire, England. Kathryn is a professional beauty consultant, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, Designed With Love was accepted by Harlequin Presents^>®. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HE WAS her ex-lover and he was now a married man. Both were good reasons to try to forget Luke Davenport, except for the fact that Alison had far greater cause to remember him.

She opened the lattice window of her cottage and took a deep breath of the early-morning air, but it was warm and sticky and did little to relieve the stifling feeling of unease inside her. There was a storm brewing, she thought, her eyes moving to the milky mist that hung over the ocean and the Cornish cliffs. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath because Luke Davenport had come home.

Nathan dropped his spoon on the tiled floor and Alison turned her attention back to the kitchen.

‘Oh, dear!’ She smiled at him and he smiled back, a spark of mischief in his big blue eyes. Was her son exceptionally gorgeous, Alison wondered dreamily, or did every mother think that about her child? She bent to pick up the spoon and rinsed it under the tap.

‘Shall Mummy help you with breakfast?’ she asked him, sitting down at the table beside him and spooning up a little of the baby food to hold it out temptingly. Nathan shook his head then reached out and took the spoon from her.

‘OK, Mr Independent.’

Alison sipped her tea and tried to dismiss the fact that Luke was home, but as she watched Nathan in his high chair she knew that was easier said than done. Nathan’s blue eyes and dark hair reminded her so much of his father that sometimes it made her heart squeeze with pain.

In a few weeks he would be two. The way time was flying he would soon be at an age to ask questions about his father, and then what would she tell him? That Luke hadn’t wanted him? That was a lie. Luke hadn’t wanted her…but he knew nothing of his child. For Nathan’s sake she wished things could have been different.

But things couldn’t be different, she told herself firmly. Luke was married and he was only home for a short while to attend his father’s funeral and sort out the family estate then he would be returning to New York again.

Even for Nathan’s sake she couldn’t get in contact with him now. Who knew what demons she would be unleashing? It was two and a half years since she had last seen Luke and that meeting had not been pleasant. She had enough problems at the moment without conjuring up Luke Davenport as well, she thought furiously.

Dragging her mind away from thoughts of Luke, Alison glanced at the clock. It was seven-thirty; soon her child-minder, Jane, would arrive and she could leave for work. Ahead of her lay a gruelling day, including a change-over of guests at the hotel and an important meeting with the bank manager. She would be lucky if she got home in time to tuck Nathan up in his cot. In all probability he would be fast asleep when she got back.

‘I don’t want to go to work today, Nathan,’ she groaned. ‘I wish I could stay here with you.’

Nathan chuckled as if this was a great joke.

But it wasn’t really funny. Work seemed beset with problems these days and she seemed to be spending longer and longer hours there. That was the trouble with a family business, she supposed, it was very difficult to just clock off when you had done the required amount of hours. The hotel was almost like having another child, she felt responsible for it…had a duty of care towards it, because it wasn’t just her own monetary position that was on the line but her brothers’ as well. They all had a stake in the Cliff House Hotel, and if it went under they were all in trouble.